The Perfect Man
by T1gerCat
Summary: Girls nights out are meant to be all fun and games correct? Bella, Bonnie, Caroline and Rebekah thought so. Watch as what started as a fun night describing The Perfect Man, turns to something none of them could ever imagine
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys, I'm finally back reposting The Perfect Man. As I told you I finished writing the story and realized I had made a few big changes down the road and they all reflected to small changes in these first few chapters and I had to take them down to get those details/changes fixed.

As I said before I still own nothing but my ideas unfortunately. _Stephenie Meyer, LJ Smith_ and _Linda Howard (for her novel Mr. Perfect and mainly the List items)_ still own their characters. Hope you like this story.

Chapter 1

**Family home, 11:38am**

"This is ridiculous!"

Clutching her pearls in her hand so tightly her knuckles were white, the woman glared at the man across from her.

"He said he didn't touch the hamster, and my child doesn't lie. The very idea!"

The bespectacled man worked privately at the house for six years. He was a teacher for twenty years but he had never met people like that before. He was accustomed to dealing with irate parents, but the tall, thin woman seated before him and the child sitting so sedately beside her, unnerved him. He hated to use the vernacular, but they were weird. Though he knew it was a wasted effort, he tried to reason with her.

"There was a witness - "

"She put him up to saying that. My son would never, never have hurt that hamster, and would you, darling?"

"No, Mother."

The voice was almost unearthly sweet, but the child's eyes were cold and unblinking as they stared at the man, as if weighing the denial's effect on him.

"See, I told you so!"

The woman said triumphantly. The man decided to try again.

"Ma'am"

"You have disliked my boy from the first time you met him. Maybe you do not like working for me or maybe you think you are not being paid enough. I do not care which. You will not talk about my son like that again!"

The woman's lips were thin with fury.

"Only two weeks ago I scolded you about the filth you were putting in my son's head. I have told you before I absolutely would not have you speaking about"

She darted a glance at the young child

"s-e-x to my child. That's why you're doing this now."

"Ma'am!"

"Stop talking! I wouldn't put it beyond you to have killed the hamster yourself!"

"The hamster was my personal pet. I brought it here to teach your child about -"

"You still could have killed it. Good God, it was just a big rat"

The woman said dismissively. The man sighed, removed his glasses and wearily polished the lenses, just to give himself something to do while he tried to think of a way to neutralize this woman's poison

"I don't understand what all the fuss is about even if my son had killed it, which he didn't. He's being persecuted - persecuted - and I won't stand for it"

He glanced at the child; it was still watching him, wearing an angelic expression totally at odds with those cold eyes. He decided to speak his mind

"Have you ever considered getting help for him? A good doctor, maybe a child psychologist -"

"Are you crazy?"

She hissed, her face twisted with instant rage as she surged to her feet.

"My son doesn't need a psychologist! There's nothing wrong with him. The problem is with you"

"The hamster is just the latest incident, not the first one. There's been a pattern of disturbing behavior that goes beyond mischief - "

"Lies!"

The woman shouted. The man nodded thoughtfully and stood up

"Then I resign. I fear for my own safety and since you refuse to understand that, they there is nothing we can talk about. I will also inform other tutors of your... situation"

The man stood and walked away with his head held high. When the gate was closed and the man out of sight, the woman, without warning, slapped her child so hard he fell out of his chair and his head banged against stone gazebo flooring.

"You little bastard,"

She said through gritted teeth.

"How dare you humiliate me that way! You know what is going to happen now, don't you?"

She screamed the last two words at him.

"Yes, Mother."

The child's face was expressionless, but his eyes gleamed with something that could almost be anticipation. The woman's eyes lost their fury, the irises glazed over as if ice water had been poured in and her tone went so cold the child almost trembled

"You will be perfect if I have to beat it into you. My child will be perfect."

"Yes, Mother"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Mystic Falls, 2014**

Bella Swan woke up in a bad mood.

Once upon a time she thought the ancient truck she used to drive when she lived with her father was the loudest car in the world. She was proven wrong by her neighbor's car. That... thing made Big Red sound like a purring kitten!

Said neighbor had just roared home at three a.m. 'Roared' being the operative word and, unfortunately, her bedroom was on the same side of the house as his driveway. Had she been informed about him she never would have closed in on the sale. In the 2 months she had lived here, he had managed to destroy all the joy she'd felt on buying her first house.

Why? He was a drunk. The kind who made her afraid to let the cat go outside when he was home. Her neighbor already had it in for poor BooBoo anyway, because he'd found paw prints on the windshield and hood of his car. She had tried to be nice that day, she did feel bad about Booboo, but he hadn't paid any attention to the peace-offering smile.

Now, here he was, waking up the entire neighborhood at three a.m. with that roaring car. The injustice of it, after he had snapped at her for waking him up in the middle of the afternoon during her housewarming party, before BooBoo had even come to live with her, made her want to march over to his house and hold her finger against his doorbell until he was up and as wide awake as everyone else.

Normally she would, despite the late hour. There was just one little problem. She was the teeniest bit afraid of him.

She didn't like it; Bella wasn't accustomed to backing down from anyone, not in this town, not anymore, but this guy made her uneasy. She didn't even know his name! All she knew was that he was a rough-looking guy and he didn't seem to hold down a regular job. At best, he was a drunk, and drunks could be mean and destructive. At worst, he was involved in illegal stuff, which added dangerous to the list. Figures she'd end up living next to the dangerous guy!

He was a tall guy, with a tousled mess of black hair. The fact that he looked as if he could go a few rounds with the wrestling team of her old high school (or at least with Emmett and Paul) and come on top (or at least alive and breathing) certainly added to her uneasiness. The guy wasn't even broad or looking like Mr. Muscle. He was lean, yet his posture screamed 'danger'.

Every time she had seen him, he looked as if he hadn't shaved in two or three days. Add that to the bloodshot eyes and bad temper and she came up with drunk. The small town had seemed so safe...

She had fallen in love with the neighborhood, with its older 1940s style houses. She had seen a good mix of people, from younger families with children to retired people whose families visited every Sunday. Some of the older folks actually sat on their porches during the cool of the evening, waving to passersby's, and children played in their yards. The absolute best was that no one asked her who her family was. That was a small perk but it was part of the selling point for her. She should have checked out all her neighbors because this guy living next door did not make her feel safe. Far from it.

Angry she turned on her other side hoping she'd be able to go back to sleep. Her hip thrust the white and silver streaked furry pillow that jumped up with a startled yowl, and Bella almost had a heart attack.

"Jesus! BooBoo, you scared the hell out of me."

She wasn't used to having a pet in the house, and she was always forgetting to watch where she moved. BooBoo, the gorgeous silver and white cat was a belated housewarming gift from her mother and the two weren't used to each other at all. He had been given to Renee as a housewarming present. Her mom loved the cat, until she got bored with the animal and re-gifted him to Bella, under the excuse of her going away, and the poor kitty had been in a feline pout ever since, and he took out his frustration on the furniture.

In just one week, he had frayed a sofa cushion to the point that she would have to have it reupholstered. She hated the tribal pillow design though, so maybe BooBoo had made her a favor, the jury was still out on that.

She woke to the annoying beep of the alarm clock. She rolled over to silence it yawning. The red numbers shining at her in the dim room made her blink, and look again.

"Ah, hell"

She groaned in disgust as she leaped out of bed. 6:58 am; the alarm had been going off for almost an hour, which meant she was late. Way late.

"Damn it, damn it, damn it,"

She muttered as she jumped into the shower and three minutes later jumped out again and dashed into the kitchen to open a can of food for BooBoo, who was already sitting beside his bowl glaring at her.

"Of all days, why couldn't you have jumped on the bed when you got hungry? No, today you decided to wait, and now I don't have time to eat."

BooBoo indicated that he didn't care whether she ate or not, so long as he had food. Shaking her head she returned to the bathroom, did a hurried makeup job, slipped earrings into her earlobes and her watch onto her wrist, and grabbed the outfit she always grabbed when she was in a hurry because she didn't have to fuss with it: dark blue jeans, a white eyelet silk shirt, with a red lace cardigan. She jammed her feet into her shoes, grabbed her purse, and was out the door.

Then she remembered. It was trash-collection day.

"Oh come on!"

Bella muttered under her breath as she rushed back into the house drawing BooBoo's attention away from his milk long enough for him to throw her a murderous look and turn his back on her.

She dashed out of the house again armed with the trash bag, remembered she hadn't locked the door, dashed back, then dragged her big metal garbage can down to the curb and deposited the morning's offerings inside it, on top of the other two bags already in it. For once, she didn't try to be quiet; she hoped she woke up the inconsiderate jerk in the house next door.

She stumbled back to her car, a midnight blue modern Beetle and just for good measure, when she started the engine; she revved it up a few times before putting it in reverse. The car shot backward and with an almighty clang collided with her garbage can. There was another clang as the can rolled into her next-door neighbor's can and knocked it over, sending the lid rolling down the street.

Bella closed her eyes and tapped her head on the steering wheel - gently; she didn't want a concussion. Though maybe she should give herself a concussion; at least then she wouldn't have to worry about getting to work on time, which was now a physical impossibility.

She put the car in park and got out. What was needed now was control, not a temper tantrum.

She righted her own dented can and placed the spilled bags back inside it, then jammed the warped lid back on top. Next she returned her neighbor's can to its full and upright position, gathered the trash - he wasn't nearly as neat with his trash collection as she was, but what did you expect from a drunk - then walked down the street to collect the lid.

It lay tilted against the curb in front of the next house down. As she bent to pick it up, she heard a screen door slam behind her.

Well, she had gotten her wish: the inconsiderate jerk was awake.

"What the hell are you doing?"

He barked. He looked scary, in his sweatpants and torn, dirty T-shirt, a black scowl on his unshaven face.

She turned and marched back to the worse-for-wear pair of cans and slammed the lid down on top of his can.

"Picking up your garbage,"

She snapped. His eyes were shooting fire. Actually they were just bloodshot, as usual, but the effect was the same.

"Just what is it you have against letting me get some sleep? You're the noisiest damn woman I've ever seen -"

The injustice of that made her forget she was a little afraid of him. Bella stalked up to him, glad she was wearing shoes with two-inch heels that lifted her up so she was level with his chin. Almost.

So what if he was big? She was mad, and mad beat big any day of the week.

"I'm noisy?"

She said through gritted teeth. It was tough to get much volume when her jaw was locked, but she tried.

"_I'm_ noisy?"

She jabbed her finger at him. She didn't want to actually touch him, because his T-shirt was torn and stained with... something.

"I'm not the one who woke the whole neighborhood at three o'clock this morning with that piece of junk you call a car. Buy a muffler, for God's sake! I'm not the one who slammed his car door once, the screen door three times - what, did you forget your bottle and have to go back for it? - and left his porch light on so it shone into my bedroom and kept me from sleeping."

He opened his mouth to blast her in return, but Bella wasn't finished.

"Furthermore, it's a hell of a lot more reasonable to expect people to be sleeping at three o'clock in the morning than it is at two in the afternoon, or"

She checked her watch

"seven-twenty-three in the morning."

God, she was so late.

"So back off, buddy! Go crawl back into your bottle. If you drink enough, you'll sleep through anything."

He opened his mouth again. Bella forgot herself and actually poked him. Oh, yuck. Now she'd have to boil her finger.

"I'll buy you a new can tomorrow, so just shut up. And if you do anything to hurt my mom's cat, I'll take you apart cell by cell. I'll mutilate your DNA so it can never reproduce, which would probably be a good thing for the world."

She swept him with a blistering look that took in his ragged, dirty clothes and unshaven jaw.

"Do you understand me?"

He nodded. She took a deep breath, reaching for the rein on her temper.

"Okay. All right, then. Damn it, you made me cuss; and I'm trying not to do that."

He gave her a strange look.

"Yeah, you really need to watch that damn cussing."

She felt a growl bubbling inside her and pushed her hair out of her face trying to muffle it.

"I'm late; I haven't had any sleep, any breakfast, or any coffee. I'd better leave before I hurt you."

He nodded.

"That's a good idea. I'd hate to have to arrest you."

She stared at him, taken aback.

"What?"

"I'm a cop,"

He said, then turned and walked back into his house. Bella stared after him, shocked. A cop?

"Well, fuck"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Every Friday, Bella and her three friends met after work at Mystic Bar & Grill (the town fathers obviously had a hard on for adding the word 'Mystic' to everything Bella used to joke), for a glass of wine, a meal they didn't have to prepare, and girl talk.

"What a day"

She said as she dropped into the empty fourth chair. While she was thanking God, she'd add to the list her thanks that today were Friday. It had been a bitch, but it was the last bitch - at least until Monday.

"Tell me about it"

Rebekah Mikaelson muttered as she stubbed out a cigarette and promptly lit another one.

"Brick's been on a tear lately. Is it possible for men to have PMS?"

"They don't need it; they're born with testosterone poisoning."

Bella deadpanned.

"Oh, is that what's wrong?"

Rebekah rolled her blue eyes while pushing a strand of her perfect blond hair out of her sight.

On the surface, the four friends had nothing in common other than their place of work and the school they attended. Rebekah Mikaelson was a vampire changed by spell, was interning in the accounting department, forever 19, undeniably the oldest one. She had been changed against her will when her parents wanted to protect their children after the death of the youngest child. That was more or less, a thousand years ago. Since then she had many lovers and a single fiancé. The wedding never happened since the guy met his maker by her own brothers' hands. Since then she preferred far less formal arrangements.

Her hair was a long and honey blond, would ever get lung cancer despite her smoking, and her clothes were always proper and understated. She liked margaritas, rowdy sex, and admitted to a fondness for human men.

Rebekah's current boyfriend was a guy named Brick. His brains and muscles true to his name, and none of the other three liked. He was in his early 20s, worked occasionally, exploded to a horse sized wolf when he got pissed or horny and spent most of his time drinking her beer and watching her television. According to Rebekah, though, he liked sex just the way she did and that was reason enough to keep him around for a while. That and the fact that all five of her brothers hated him and needling the Originals was always too much fun.

Bonnie Bennett was the resident witch and the wunderkind of the sales division, something she was a natural at after using her powers unwittingly to see what each client wanted and present her products in just the right way. She was tall, willowy, and had both the grace and dignity of a cat. Her perfect skin was the color of mocha, her voice was gentle and lyrical, and men dropped at her feet like flies.

She was currently dating Matt Donovan, one of their classmates who also worked at the Grill. She had fallen hard for him, having turned from best fried to lover without realizing it, while he was known for two things. His stepping out after the new face in town and his golden retriever devotion to whichever current woman was in his life. Once upon a time it used to be Elena (Bonnie's best friend growing up) and another Caroline (after Elena dumped him in favor of the new guy in town) and later Rebekah (after she too moved in Mystic Falls). Currently it was Bonnie (but only after she helped to see his dead sister's ghost and only when no new people moved in or out of their small town). All too often Bonnie's dark hazel eyes held an unhappy expression, but she refused to give up on him.

Caroline Forbes interned in human resources, also a vampire turned on what would have been her deathbed and was everything Bella could have been had she not moved to Mystic Falls. She was stuck in the in-between year as she called being seventeen, and had began dating Rebekah's vampire-werewolf hybrid older brother as a way to take his attention of her boyfriend but ended up falling for the big bad hybrid.

Privately, Bella thought Caroline could be a little more independent. Klaus may be the big man of the world who would travel from Virginia to New Orleans without a word; Caroline was always checking her watch, as though she had to be home at a certain time or her phone constantly for messages. From what Bella gathered, Klaus didn't approve of their Friday night get-together. All they did was have dinner, and they were never out later than nine or ten; it wasn't as if they were hitting all the bars and drinking until the wee hours, despite Rebekah's tries.

Well, no one's life was perfect, Bella thought. She hadn't done so great in the romance department herself. Like Caroline she had fallen for a human boy in Phoenix where she lived with her mother but it hadn't worked. She'd began dating a Cold One when she moved in with her father in Forks but despite all they'd been through together, he had dumped her like trash after she got a paper cut on her birthday party sending her into a month long depression. She got over it, and him, with her best friend's help without realizing Jake's motives weren't as friendly as hers and he tried to kiss her against her will. Her human punch against his shape shifter cheek though did little to sting him despite breaking her wrist and the drama that unfolded between the two caused a permanent rift between her and her father.

That rift ended with Bella packing her bags and utilizing an open ended plain ticket her vampire's boyfriend's mother had gifted her for her birthday and went to her own mother. Renee, despite her numerous parenting flaws, simply hugged her silly and handed Bella the keys to her stepfather's family mansion in a tiny town she had never heard of before and told her daughter to be safe and call her daily. Renee didn't think that finding the remains of her father in law in the house's backyard, buried under the vervain plants was something to be afraid of.

That move was the best thing that could happen to her and in the small town that was supernatural central she had flourished. Nobody cared that she was eighteen and alone and nobody tried to get in her business. She rented out the seven rooms of the Salvatore mansion and used the income as well as her own paychecks and royalties to buy her very own house. Her sci-fi romance book based on her own sci-fi romance with the vampire ex had sold well and she was currently writing a sequel based on how she envisioned her life would be had not Edward (her vampire boyfriend) wasn't such a moron to have left her.

She had given up on dating altogether despite her friends' protests and blind dates setups. She was content being the token human in their group.

"I had another episode with my neighbor this morning,"

She said, sighing as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her entwined fingers.

"What did he do this time?"

Caroline was sympathetic, because, as they all knew, Bella was stuck, and bad neighbors could make your life a living hell. She had offered to compel the nasty neighbor but the town's water supply had recently been enriched with a herb that countered compulsion. Rebekah had offered to eat him, literally, while Bonnie had suggested hexing him but Bella had turned them all down despite wanting to accept. She wasn't a local and wasn't supernatural. She didn't want to ruin Phil's family name if something went wrong. She may own the Salvatore Boarding House but she wasn't a Salvatore, although Phil had suggested it, Bella felt attached to her own name.

"I was in a hurry and backed into my trash can. You know how when you're running late you always do things that would never happen if you took your time? Everything went wrong this morning. Anyway, my can knocked his down, and the lid bounced into the street. You can imagine the noise. He came charging out the front door like a bear, yelling that I was the noisiest person he'd ever seen."

"You should have kicked his can over"

Rebekah said. She wasn't a believer in turning the other cheek outside the bedroom.

"He'd have arrested me for disturbing the peace"

Bella said mournfully.

"He's a cop."

"No way!"

They all looked incredulous, but then, they had heard her describe him, and red eyes, beard stubble, and dirty clothes didn't sound very cop like. None of them had ever met him in person.

"I guess cops are just as likely to be drunks as anyone else,"

Caroline sighed and then grinner devilishly.

"Want me to have mom ruin his life a little?"

Just like Bella, Caroline was the Sheriff's daughter. Sometimes the two felt too similar for comfort. Bella frowned, thinking back to the morning's encounter and seriously contemplating complaining to Liz Forbes. Unlike her own father who would protect her but ultimately insisting she fights her own battles, Liz was a woman that would listen to her and take her side if she found it fair.

"Come to think of it, I didn't smell anything on him. He looked like he'd been on a three-day drunk, but he didn't smell like it. Damn, I hate to think he can be that grouchy when he isn't hangover."

"At least he's just a neighbor"

Bonnie said soothingly.

"You can avoid him."

"So far I'm not doing a very good job at it"

Bella admitted, scowling at the table. Then she straightened, determined to stop letting the jerk dominate her life and her thoughts

"Enough about him. Anything interesting going on with you guys?"

Bonnie bit her lip, and misery chased across her face.

"I called Matt last night, and a woman answered."

"Oh, damn."

Rebekah leaned across the table to pat Bonnie's hand, and Bella exchanged a look with Caroline and both hugged Bonnie. The waiter chose that moment to distribute menus that they didn't need, because they knew all the selections by heart. They gave him their orders, he collected the unopened menus, and when he left, they all leaned closer to the table.

"What are you going to do?"

Bella asked her thinking of the ways 'she' could help her witch friend. Bonnie shrugged. She was close to tears, and trying to be nonchalant.

"We aren't exclusive. I don't have any right to complain."

"No, but you can protect yourself and stop seeing him,"

Caroline said gently.

"We all did it. Matt is a great guy and an amazing friend, but is he worth this kind of pain?"

Rebekah snorted.

"No man is"

"Amen"

Four margarita glasses clinked as each girl thought about her own man. Bonnie twisted the amber crystal that hung from her neck, her long, slender fingers restless.

"But when we're together, he. He acts as if he really cares. He's sweet, and loving, and so considerate -"

"They all are, until they get what they want."

Rebekah stubbed out her third cigarette as Caroline kicked her under the table.

"That's personal experience speaking, you understand. Have your fun with him, but don't expect him to change."

The original vampire hastened to explain trying to avoid Bella's sharp kick under the table. Caroline nodded ruefully picking at the bracelet Klaus had given her as a belated birthday present after saving her immortal life.

"They never change. They may put on an act for a while, but when they think they have you sewed up and tied down, they relax and Mr. Hyde shows his hairy face again."

Bella laughed.

"That sounds like something I would say."

"Except you'd be rhetorical Miss VCard intact"

Rebekah pointed out making Bella blush furiously. Caroline waved a signal to cut the jokes. Bonnie looked even more miserable than before.

"So I should either put up with being one of a herd, or stop seeing him?"

"Well. Yeah."

"But it shouldn't be that way! If he cares for me, how can he be interested in all those other women?"

"Oh, that's easy,"

Bella replied.

"The one-eyed snake has no taste."

"Sweetheart,"

Rebekah said, her voice as kind as she could make it,

"If you're looking for Mr. Perfect, you're going to spend your whole life being disappointed, because he doesn't exist. You have to get the best deal you can, but there will always be problems."

"I know he isn't perfect, but - "

"But you want him to be,"

Caroline finished. She did too. The whole time she was with Matt she was wondering if he thought about Elena and she knew that Rebekah thought she was a replacement for Caroline and now Bonnie... Bella shook her head.

"The perfect man is pure science fiction. Not that we're perfect, either, but most women do at least try. Men don't try. That's why I gave up on them. Relationships just don't work out for me."

She paused, then said thoughtfully,

"I wouldn't mind having a sex slave, though."

The other three burst out laughing, even Bonnie.

"I could get into that, I wonder where I can get one?"

Rebekah said not digging into Bella's on existent sex life this time.

"Try Sexslaves-R-Us,"

Caroline suggested, and they dissolved into laughter again.

"There's probably a Web site,"

Bonnie said, choking a little.

"Of course there is."

Bella was totally deadpan.

"It's on my Favorites list: .com."

"Just type in your requirements and you can rent Mr. Perfect by the hour or the day."

Caroline waved her margarita glass carried away with enthusiasm.

"A day? Get real. An hour is asking for a miracle. Besides, there is no Mr. Perfect, remember?"

Rebekah said laughing.

"Not a real one, no, but a sex slave would have to pretend to be exactly what you wanted, wouldn't he?"

Biting her lip, Bella rummaged through her purse for her trusty notepad and pen and opened it on the table.

"He most certainly would. Let's see, what would Mr. Perfect be like?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"He'd have to do the dishes half the time without being asked,"

Caroline said, slapping her hand down on the table and drawing curious looks their way. When they managed to stop laughing at the mental image of Klaus doing the dishes in a pair of bright pink kitchen gloves long enough to be coherent, Bella scribbled on her pad.

"Okay, **Number 1: Do the dishes**."

"No, hey, doing the dishes can't be number one; we have more serious issues to address first."

Rebekah protested

"Agreed"

Bonnie said.

"Seriously. What do we think a perfect man would be like? I've never thought about it in those terms. Maybe it would help if I had it clear in my mind what I like in a man."

They all paused.

"The perfect man? Seriously?"

Bella wrinkled her nose.

"Seriously."

"This is going to take some thinking,"

Rebekah said sipping her drink

"Not for me"

Caroline said, the laughter fading from her face.

"The most important thing is that **he wants the same things out of life that you do**."

They lapsed into a little pond of silence. The attention their laughter had gotten from the diners at the surrounding tables moved on to more promising targets.

"Wants the same things out of life,"

Bella repeated as she wrote it down.

"That's important, but I'm not sure it's number one."

"Then what's number one for you?"

"Faithfulness."

She thought of the sneaking suspicions she had all along as to why despite her tries, Edward simply wasn't into her body as much as he was into her mind

"Life's too short to waste it on someone you can't trust. You should be able to depend on the man you love not to lie to you or cheat on you. If you have that as a base, you can work on the other stuff."

"That's number one for me,"

Bonnie said quietly. Caroline thought about it.

"Okay,"

"I'll go along with that, I can't stand a two-timer. **Number one: He's faithful**. **Doesn't cheat or lie**."

Rebekah said. They all nodded.

"What else?"

Bella sat with the pen poised over the pad.

"He should be nice,"

Caroline offered.

"Nice?"

Rebekah looked incredulous.

"Yes, nice. Who wants to spend her life with a jerk?"

"Or next door to one?"

Bella muttered. She nodded in agreement.

"Nice is good. It doesn't sound exciting, but think about it. I think Mr. Perfect would be kind to kids and animals, help old ladies across the street, not insult you when your opinion is different from his. Being nice is so important it's close to being number one."

Bonnie nodded.

"Okay,"

Rebekah said and took the pad from Bella to hand it to Caroline to write her input.

"**Number two: Nice**."

"Number three? I have my own idea on this one. I want a guy who's dependable. If he says he's going to do something, he should do it. If he's supposed to meet me somewhere at seven, he should be there at seven, not come strolling in at nine-thirty or maybe not at all. Is there a vote on this one?"

They all four raised their hands in an aye vote, and "**Number three: Dependable**" went down in the number three slot in Rebekah's elegant handwriting.

"Number four?"

"The obvious,"

Bella said.

"A steady job."

Rebekah winced.

"Ouch. That one hurt."

Brick was currently sitting on his butt instead of working.

"A steady job is part of being dependable,"

Caroline pointed out.

"And I agree, it's important. Holding down a steady job shows maturity and a sense of responsibility no matter species."

"**Number four: Steady job**,"

Rebekah said as she wrote.

"He should have a sense of humor,"

Bonnie said.

"Something more than an appreciation for The Three Stooges?"

Bella asked. They began snickering.

"What is it with men and The Three Stooges?"

"And bodily function jokes! Put that at number one, Bonnie - no toilet jokes!"

"**Number five: Sense of humor**."

Bonnie chuckled as she wrote.

"In the interest of fairness, I don't think we can dictate what form the humor takes."

"Sure we can"

Bella corrected.

"He's going to be our sex slave, remember?"

"Number six."

Rebekah called them to order by tapping the pen on the rim of her glass.

"Let's get back to business, ladies. What's number six?"

They all looked at each other and shrugged.

"Money's nice"

Caroline finally offered.

"It isn't a requirement, not in real life, but this is fantasy, right? The perfect man should have money."

"Filthy rich or comfortable?"

That called for more thought.

"I like filthy rich, myself"

Rebekah said.

"But he would want to call all the shots if he was filthy rich. He'd be used to it."

Bella objected and both Rebekah and Caroline winced in agreement.

"No way is that going to happen. Okay, money is nice, but not too much money. Comfortable. Mr. Perfect is financially comfortable."

Four hands went up, and "**Number six: Money**" was written.

"Since this is fantasy"

Bella said,

"He should be good-looking. Not drop-dead gorgeous, because that could be a problem. Bonnie's the only one of us pretty enough to hold her own with a handsome guy"

"I'm not doing so good at it, am I?"

Bonnie replied with a tinge of bitterness.

"But, yeah, for Mr. Perfect to be perfect, you should enjoy looking at him"

"Hear, hear**. Number seven: Good to look at**."

When Bella had finished writing, Rebekah looked up with a grin.

"I'm going to be the one to say what we've all been thinking. He should be great in bed. Not just good; he should be great. He should be able to make my toes curl and my eyes roll back in my head. He should have the stamina of a Kentucky Derby winner and the enthusiasm of a sixteen-year-old."

They were still rolling with laughter when the waiter plunked their orders down on the table.

"What's so funny?"

He asked them

"You wouldn't understand,"

Caroline managed to gasp.

"I get it, you're talking about men"

"Nope, we're talking science fiction"

Bella said which sent them off again. The people at the other tables were staring at them again, trying to overhear what was so funny. The waiter left. Rebekah leaned over the table.

"And while I'm at it, I want my Mr. Perfect to have a ten-incher!"

"Oh, my!"

Caroline pretended to swoon, fanning herself.

"What I couldn't do with ten inches - or rather, what I could do with ten inches!"

Bella was laughing so hard she had to hold her sides. Keeping her voice down was an effort, and her words shook with hilarity.

"C'mon! Anything over eight inches is strictly for show-and-tell. It's there, but you can't use it. It might look good in a locker room, but let's face it - those extra two inches are leftovers."

"Leftovers"

Bonnie gasped, holding her stomach and shrieking with laughter.

"Let's hear it for l-leftovers!"

"Oh, boy"

Rebekah wiped her eyes as she scribbled rapidly, her handwriting almost unrecognizable as she laughed

"**Number seven: No smaller than 8 inches**"

"Now we're cooking. What else does Mr. Perfect have?"

Caroline weakly waved her hand giggling madly

"Me, he can have me."

"If we don't trample you getting to him,"

Bella said, and raised her glass. The other three lifted theirs, and they touched rims with ringing clinks.

"To Mr. Perfect, wherever he is!"


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Saturday morning dawned bright and early - way too bright, and way the hell too early. BooBoo woke Bella at six a.m. by yowling in her ear.

"Go away,"

She mumbled, pulling the pillow over her head. BooBoo yowled again, and batted the pillow. She got the message: she'd either get up, or he was going to unsheathe his claws. She pushed the pillow aside and sat up, glaring at him.

"You're evil, you know that? You couldn't do this yesterday morning, could you? No, you have to wait until my day off, when I don't have to get up early."

He looked unimpressed with her outrage. That was the thing about cats; even the scruffiest one was convinced of its innate superiority. She scratched him behind his ears and a low rumble shivered through his entire body. His slanted yellow eyes closed in bliss.

"You just wait, I'm going to get you addicted to this scratching stuff, and then I'm going to stop doing it. You're going to go cold turkey, pal."

He jumped down from the bed and padded to the open bedroom door, pausing to look back as if checking to make certain she was getting up. Bella yawned and threw back the covers. At least she hadn't been disturbed by her neighbor's noisy car during the night, plus she had pulled down the window shade to keep out the morning light, so she had slept soundly until BooBoo's wake-up call. She raised the shade and peeked through the sheer curtains at the driveway running beside hers. The battered brown car was there. That meant she had either been exhausted and slept like the dead, or he'd gotten a new muffler on the thing. She thought the exhausted-and-dead part was more likely than him getting a new muffler.

BooBoo evidently thought she was wasting time, because he gave a warning meow. Sighing, she pushed her hair out of her face and stumbled to the kitchen - stumbled being the operative word, because BooBoo helped her along by winding around her ankles as she walked. She desperately needed coffee, but knew from experience that BooBoo wouldn't leave her alone until he was fed. She opened a can of food, dumped it on a saucer (because His royalty refused mere cat bowls), and set it on the floor.

While he was occupied, she put on a pot of coffee and headed for the shower. Some people were larks; some were owls; Bella had been both and now was neither. She didn't function well until after a shower and a cup of coffee, and she liked to be in bed early. BooBoo was upsetting the natural order of things with his demands to be fed before anything else was done. How could her mom have done this to her?

"Just four weeks and six days more"

She muttered to herself. Who would have thought that a cat that was normally so loving would turn into such a tyrant when he wasn't in his regular environment?

After a long shower and two cups of coffee, her synapses started connecting and she began remembering all the things she needed to do. Buy the jerk next door a new trash can - check. Buy groceries - check. Do laundry - check. Mow the lawn - check. Get the weekly checks from the boarding house and give the weekly paychecks - check and check.

A quick bowl of cereal later, she pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, stuck her feet in a pair of sandals, and was on her way.

One thing that always struck her was how no one seemed to find getting orders from a teenager as strange in Mystic Falls. Either the town was just that casual with teenagers or money talked or Bella hadn't realized how important Phil's last name was in this place.

Phil's father, Zach Salvatore, had passed away a couple years earlier (and was literally helping the local herbs grow since) and the place had gone to disarray. For some reason the house had been sold to some local girl, who clearly used the house to host raves or something, and Phil had gone through Hell with the local authorities to prove that the girl had no claim in the property. Fortunately his copy of Zach Salvatore's will trumped the sale of the house the girl had and the boarding house belonged to a Salvatore again.

When Bella showed up in Mid-November holding the keys and hanging up a sign saying 'OPEN', everyone had been welcoming and she had even found an old lady that used to own the town's only inn to help her run the place in a day to day basis.

As she got out of the car, Miss Daisy Flowers, in her classic tight white bun and colorful long dress got up from her perch under an umbrella and walked over to her.

"Good morning!"

"Good morning"

Bella replied. She had met the pleasant old lady when she had chosen the inn to stay at after arriving. Miss Flowers had woken her up with fragrant homemade rolls and tea from her own garden to help with the jetlag from the horrible short flight from Florida. Bella had loved her immediately even if the old lady was extremely nosy and had gotten Bella's life story by the time the pot of tea was finished. Bella attributed the curiosity to the monstrosity that hangs from her neck. Phil's family crest was supposed to ease her into the small town. Bella thought he was absurd until she started school and realized that humans were the minority. If only the pendant could scare the jerk next door away!

She smiled at the old lady and allowed to be stuffed with more homemade goodies and vervain tea.

"Sometimes I believe I'm the human equivalent of Babe Miss Flowers. You're fattening me up so I won't see next snow"

She laughed at the huge spread in front of her. Miss Flowers laughed along

"You rarely see snow here dear no matter my fattening you up. You could stand to gain a few more pounds. You were a skeleton when you first got here"

Miss Flowers exclaimed after pinching Bella's cheek hard enough for Bella to remember why she didn't like old ladies as a child.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

She changed the subject. Thank God for weather, because the world would be hard up for a conversational gambit without it.

"Oh, my, it's going to be a scorcher."

Mrs. Flowers beamed at her.

"I have to do my gardening early, before it gets too hot."

The property had a huge yard full of beautiful purple flowers that had the attribute of being poisonous for vampires and protected a human when ingested or worn. Zach Salvatore provided them to the town and Bella had allowed Mrs Flowers to do the same now. She had asked Mrs Flowers brother to help her repot a few bushes at her house as well, not for the attributes but because she loved the color of the wild flowers.

"I had the same idea about mowing my lawn this morning."

"How is the house treating you sweetheart?"

Mr Flowers used to be in real estate before retiring and had helped Bella find the house in the spring.

"I really love it. I'm really grateful your husband helped me find it. I really enjoy you as a neighbor as well"

It wasn't a lie. The nosy old lady was a fine neighbor. It was the jerk on the other side of hers, she wasn't crazy about.

"Miss Flowers, do you know the man who lives on the other side of me?"

What if the jerk had lied to her? What if he wasn't really a cop? She could just see him having a good laugh at her expense, while she tiptoed around and tried to be nice to him. Mrs Flowers eyes widened but then she sipped her own tea and nodded

"My, yes, I've known him all his life practically. His family used to live here, you know. Old family line, like yours. Lovely people. I was so glad when he moved in. He was in the army you know"

Well, that shot that theory in the ass. Bella managed a smile opting against reminding her that she wasn't a Salvatore. She was simply the step daughter of one

"Yes, of course."

She started to say something about the strange hours he kept, but saw the gleam in Mrs Flowers bright blue eyes and bit back the words. The last thing she needed was for her elderly neighbor to think she had any interest in the jerk and maybe tell him. She took care of that by adding,

"I thought he might be a drug dealer or something."

Miss Flowers broke into laughter

"He may have his issues but he's not dealing drugs. You should call that Gilbert boy if you want good drugs"

Miss flowers patted Bella's hands and Bella felt her brows going for a visit in her hairline.

"I... will keep that in mind"

Once her business at the boarding house were over and Bella was driving home, she realized that while chatty and gossipy, Mrs. Flowers had avoided mentioning her neighbor's name

At home, having exchanged the long jeans for shorts, she felt ready to tackle her own gardening. She knew it was silly but she felt a thrill of anticipation as she unlocked the padlock on the garage doors and slipped inside, fumbling until she reached the switch that turned on the single overhead light. Phil's prized car sat there, completely covered by a custom-made canvas tarp, lined with felt so it wouldn't scratch the paint.

Near it was the gardening tools and grabbing those she went back into the inferno. One thing she hadn't realized she'd miss if she had talked Edward into turning her into a vampire would be the sun. When she was little Renée had joked that Bella ran on solar energy.

Shaking the memories away, Bella wheeled the lawn mower to the end of the driveway and fired up the little motor. When she was living with Renee, her mother used to do this because she loved going crazy and giving the lawn shapes. Charlie's lawn was dead and sad in contrast. Now hers was being neatly beheaded and she hummed along as she guided the machine.

Something tapped her on the shoulder.

She shrieked and released the lawn mower handles, jumping to one side and whirling to face her attacker. The mower stopped in its tracks.

The jerk stood there, bloodshot eyes, snarl on his face, dirty clothes: his usual presentation. He reached over and slid the lever on the mower to the off position, and the efficient little engine growled to a stop.

Silence. For about half a second.

"What in hell did you do that for?"

She roared, her face turning red with temper as she stepped closer, unconsciously balling her right hand into a fist.

"I thought you were trying to quit cussing,"

He taunted.

"You'd drive a saint to cussing!"

"That let's you out, doesn't it?"

"You're damn right!"

He eyed her right hand.

"Are you going to use that, or are you going to be reasonable?"

"What -?"

She glanced down and saw that her arm was half-cocked, her fist already drawn back. With great effort she uncurled her fingers. They immediately assumed the fight position again. She really, really wanted to slug him, and she got even angrier because she couldn't.

"Reasonable?"

She yelled, stepping even closer.

"You want me to be reasonable? You're the one who scared the hell out of me and turned off my mower!"

"I'm trying to sleep"

He said, enunciating the words with clear pit stops between each one.

"Is it asking too much for a little consideration?"

She gaped at him.

"You act as if I'm out here mowing at dawn. It's almost ten o'clock! And I'm not the only one who's committing the high crime of cutting grass. Listen,"

She commanded, as the muted roar of neighborhood mowers hummed up and down the street.

"They aren't mowing right outside my bedroom window!"

"So get in bed at a decent hour. It isn't my fault you stay up most of the night!"

His face was getting as red as hers.

"I'm on a task force, kid! Irregular hours are part of the job. I sleep when I can, which, since you moved in, hasn't been very damn often!"

She threw up her hands.

"All right! Fine! I'll finish the job tonight, when it cools down."

She made a shooing motion.

"Just stagger on back to bed. I'll go inside and sit for the next eleven hours. Or will that disturb your beauty rest, too?"

She inquired sweetly.

"Not unless you have firecrackers in your ass"

He snapped, Bella smirked

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

She stalked back into her house enjoying the fact that he got to see her walking away from him even though she was seething. Slamming her door closed she earned a glare from BooBoo before he went back to washing his paws.

"A task force. There's zero crime here except one night a month when werewolves tear the occasional vamp from limb to limb or vampires having sky high libidos"

She growled and BooBoo looked at her finally done with his paws.

"I'll let you in on a secret about our neighbor, BooBoo: Mr. Perfect, he's not!"

BooBoo raised one leg and began washing his intimate areas as if offering an opinion about their neighbor. Bella laughed at the gesture.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Bella managed to get through the weekend without another confrontation with her jerk neighbor and was at work fifteen minutes early in an effort to atone for her Friday lateness.

S.P.C. Inc. occupied a four-story red-brick building with a gray arched porch and six curving steps leading up to impressive double doors. That entrance, however, was used exclusively by visitors. All the employees entered by a metal side door with an electronic lock. The keycards included everything from photographs to species

S.P.C. Inc was the pretty front for the town's inner workings. It used to house the town's council and once the supernatural business was out of the bag it began housing the new face of the council. Supernatural Population Control.

Wiping her card through it and pushing her hair back for a retina scan (to verify that she was still human) Bella entered the building and waited in front of the elevators. The door behind her opened, and Bella turned to see who the next arrival was. She barely refrained from wrinkling her nose.

Jane Upir worked in human resources, and she could be counted on to not see the humor in anything. She was a tall woman whose ambition was to rise into management, though she didn't seem to know how to go about doing so. She wore rather girlish clothes instead of the more businesslike suits that would have complemented her flat as a cardboard build. She was an attractive woman, with feathery blond hair and good skin. Her best feature was her hands, which were slim and elegant, and which she always kept perfectly manicured.

Bella wasn't entirely sure why she despised the woman. She supposed the red eyes and sparkly skin had something to do with it. The very features that turned her into a warm kitten a year ago now hardened her. The animosity wasn't one sided though. Jane flashed Bella a look of utter dislike.

"Go first"

She ordered. Bella threw her a look of total boredom she had copied from Rosalie Hale-Cullen and stepped into the elevator. The doors slid closed, leaving Jane standing outside them glaring.

"Good morning to you too"

Bella grumbled running her hand through her tresses. She had tried not to judge Jane by her species, it wasn't her fault that someone of her kind had broken Bella's heart, but something about her just rubbed Bella the wrong way.

Bella interned at the payroll department. She had never liked math but there was something soothing in the rinse-repeat rhythm. Not in Mondays however. Mondays were the busiest day of the week, because that was when all the time cards for the week before were turned in. This month Bella's boss was away on vacation and it was the first time she'd do payroll on her own despite being a mere intern. Fun!

By ten o'clock, she was ready for a break. Each floor had a snack room, with the usual assortment of vending machines, tables and chairs, a refrigerator, a coffeemaker, and a microwave. There were several women and one man grouped around a single table when Bella entered, all of the women laughing their heads off and the guy looking indignant.

Bella poured herself a much-needed cup of coffee.

"What's up?"

She asked no one in particular

"A special edition of the newsletter"

One of the women answered. Her eyes were wet from laughing.

"This one is going down in history."

"I don't see what's so funny"

Said the guy, scowling.

"You wouldn't"

Another woman said, snickering. She held out the newsletter to Bella.

"Take a look."

The company newsletter wasn't officially sanctioned, not by any stretch of the imagination. It originated from the news floor and one thing they were great for was using their imaginations. Bella expected to see another "wolves ripped a passing by vampire to shreds" to "gas explosion" but the headline was set in huge boldface letters: DO YOU MEASURE UP? Below it read, "What Women Really Want," with a tape measure coiled like a cobra ready to strike.

"Forget about it, guys," the article began. "Most of us are nonstarters. For years we've been told it's not what we've got, it's how we use it, but now we know the truth. Our expert panel of four women, friends who work here at SPC Sat, have come up with a list of their requirements for the perfect man."

Uh-oh. Bella almost groaned, but managed to bite back the sound and show nothing but interest in her expression. Damn it, what had Rebekah done with that list they had written down?

Hastily she skimmed down the article. Thank God; none of their names were mentioned. They were listed as A, B, C, and D. She was still going to throw her spare vervain at Rebekah but now she wouldn't have to fold, spindle, and dagger her.

The entire list was there, starting with "faithful" in the number one spot. The list wasn't bad until it hit number eight, "great in bed," but after that it deteriorated rapidly. Number nine was Rebekah's ten-inch requirement, complete with all their accompanying comments, including her own about the last two inches being leftovers.

Number ten had to do with how long Mr. Perfect should be able to last in bed.

"Definitely longer than a television commercial,"

Had been Bonnie's - Ms. D's - rather scathing indictment. They had settled on half an hour as the optimum length of lovemaking, not counting foreplay.

"Why not?"

Ms. C - that was Bella - was quoted as saying.

"This is a fantasy, right? And a fantasy is supposed to be exactly what you want it to be. My Mr. Perfect could give me thirty minutes of thrusting time - unless you're having a quickie, in which case thirty minutes would kind of defeat the purpose."

The women were all howling with laughter, so Bella figured some expression must be on her face. She just hoped it looked like astonishment rather than horror. The guy - she thought his name was Gary or Craig, something like that - was turning redder by the minute.

"You wouldn't think it was so funny if a bunch of men said that their ideal woman had to have big boobs"

He snapped, getting to his feet, blurring in and out of focus as he held on to his anger to not explode in a furry animal of some sort.

"Oh, come off it, Like men haven't gone for big boobs since their knuckles still dragged the ground. It's nice to see a little payback."

One of the women threw back at him. Oh, great. A battle between the sexes. Bella could just imagine the conversations going on around the building. She forced a smile as she handed back the newsletter.

"I guess we're going to hear about this for a while."

"Are you kidding? I'm going to frame my copy and hang it where my husband sees it first thing in the morning when he wakes up and last thing at night when he goes to bed!"

As soon as Bella got back to her office, she dialed Rebekah's extension.

"Guess what I just saw in the newsletter,"

She growled, keeping her voice low.

"Oh, damn. How bad is it? I haven't seen a copy yet."

"From what I read, it's pretty much verbatim. Damn it, 'Bekah, how could you?"

"And it was an accident. I don't want to say too much here in the office, but if you can meet me for lunch, I'll tell you what happened."

"Okay. Pizza at twelve. I'll call the others"

"This sounds like a lynch party,"

Rebekah said mournfully.

"You would know"

Bella said, and hung up.

Mystic Pizza was about half a mile from the company, which made it a popular place with the employees. They did a booming take-out business, but they also had half a dozen booths and about that many tables. Bella got the back booth, where they would have the most privacy. Within minutes, the other three arrived and slid into the booth, Caroline next to Bella, Rebekah and Bonnie across from them.

"God, I'm sorry"

Rebekah said. She looked miserable, her European accent thick.

"I can't believe you showed the list to someone!"

Caroline was horrified.

"If Klaus ever finds out -"

"I don't see why you're so upset,"

Bonnie said, puzzled.

"I mean, yeah, it'd be a little embarrassing if people found out we're the ones who made the list, but it's really kind of funny."

"Would you still think its funny six months from now when guys are still coming up to you offering to show you that they measure up?"

Bella asked.

"Klaus wouldn't think it's funny at all,"

Caroline said, shaking her head. Privately the others agreed. The hybrid was well known for his temper tantrums

"He'd kill me."

"Yeah,"

Rebekah said glumly.

"Brick isn't what you'd call sensitive, but he'd get pissed that I said I wanted ten inches. Guess you can say he'd come up short."

"How did it happen?"

"I went shopping Saturday, and I ran into that pink haired freak from first floor and we got to talking, went for a late lunch, and had a couple of beers. I showed her the list, we had a good laugh, and she asked for a copy. I didn't see why not. After a few drinks, I don't see why not about a lot of things. She asked a few questions, and somehow I wound up writing down everything we'd said."

Rebekah had a photographic memory like all vampires. Unfortunately, a few drinks didn't seem to affect her memory, just her judgment.

"At least you didn't give her our names,"

Caroline said, her head falling on Bella's shoulder.

"She knows who we are Care"

Bella pointed out.

"Bekah had the list, so any idiot can figure out she's one of the four friends and take it from there. It's not like you two Queens socialize with a lot of people over the summer"

Caroline covered her face with her hands again.

"I'm dead."

"I don't think anything will come of it,"

Bonnie said soothingly.

"If Pink Hair was going to spill the beans on us, she would already have told her pals on the first floor. We're safe. Klaus will never know. I'll cast him a memory spell if you want to"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Bella was on edge the rest of the day, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She couldn't imagine how nervous Caroline must have felt, because if this ever got out and Klaus found out about it, he'd probably chew her out, quite literally.

When it came down to the bottom line, Caroline was the one who had the most to lose. Rebekah was in a relationship, but at least she wasn't that fond of Brick anyway. The thing Bonnie had going with Matt was on-again, off-again at best, without commitment. Hell, the wakeup call could come handy if he thought he lost her.

Of the four, Bella was the one who would have the least difficulty if their identities became known. She wasn't in a relationship and she answered to no one but herself. Most of all, she wasn't local so she'd have some teasing to endure, but that was all.

Once she analyzed the situation and came to that conclusion, she stopped worrying so much. So what if some officeclown tried to show off his wit? She could hold her own with any bozo despite his species.

Her improved mood lasted until she got home and found that BooBoo, in an attempt to impress on her how upset he was at having to stay in a strange house, had completely shredded one of the rosy cushions on her sofa. Tufts of stuffing were scattered all over the living room. She closed her eyes and counted to ten, then to twenty. There was no point in getting angry at the cat; he wouldn't understand nor care. He was as much a victim of circumstance as she was. He hissed at her when she reached for him. She usually left him alone when he did that, but in a moment of pity she scooped him up anyway and burrowed her fingers into his fur, kneading the limber muscles of his back.

"Poor kitty"

She crooned.

"You don't know what's going on, do you?"

BooBoo snarled at her, then ruined the effect by lapsing into a rumbling purr.

"Just hold on for four weeks and five days. That's thirty-three days. You can put up with me that long, can't you?"

He didn't look as if he agreed, but didn't care as long as she continued kneading his back. She carried him into the kitchen and put him on the floor with a fuzzy toy mouse to battle.

Okay. The cat was trashing her house. She could cope. Renee would laugh but she'd help Bella pick new furniture. She was impressed by her own mellowness.

She got a soda and as she stood at the sink, her neighbor arrived home. At the sight of that poop brown car she could feel her mellowness begin to circle the drain. But the car was quiet, so evidently he had replaced the muffler. If he was trying, so could she. Mentally she put a stopper in the drain.

She watched out the window as he got out of the car and unlocked his kitchen door, which faced hers. He was wearing slacks and a black dress shirt and a jacket slung over his shoulder. He looked tired, and when he turned to enter the house, she saw the big black gun in the holster on his belt. This was the first time she had seen him wearing anything except old, dirty clothes, and she felt a bit disoriented, as if the world had shifted off center.

Knowing he was in law enforcement and seeing him as a cop were two different things. The fact that he was wearing street clothes instead of a uniform meant he wasn't a patrol officer, but was at least a detective in rank. That puzzled her though. Mystic was just as small as Forks and Charlie always wore his uniform. Even Liz always wore hers. If the sheriff wore a uniform, why wouldn't the others in the department?

He was still a jerk, but he was a jerk with heavy responsibilities, so maybe she could be more understanding. She had no way of knowing when he was asleep, short of knocking on his door to ask him, which kind of defeated the purpose if she didn't want to disturb him when he was sleeping. She just wouldn't mow her lawn when he was at home, period. That didn't mean she wouldn't tear a strip off his ass whenever he disturbed her, because fair was fair, but she would try to get along with him. After all, they would probably be neighbors for years and years.

God, that thought was depressing.

Her mellowness and charity toward all lasted. Oh, a couple of hours. At seven-thirty she settled down in her big easy chair with her laptop on a pillow to work some more on her new book. A cup of green tea steamed gently at her elbow, and she anti-oxidized herself with an occasional sip as she lost herself in "what could have been".

A loud crash destroyed the quietness of her little neighborhood just as book-Edward was about to kiss her book self.

"Cock blocked even in my own writing"

She sighed and saved her work before shoving her feet into her flip-flops and standing up and went outside.

Porch lights were coming on up and down the street; doors were opening and curious heads were popping out like turtles peeking out of their shells. Five doors down, illuminated by the corner streetlight, was a tangle of crumpled metal.

Bella ran down the street, her heart thumping, her stomach tightening as she braced herself for whatever she might see and tried to remember the basic first aid steps, shaking her head to chase the images of Tyler's van and Edward away.

Other people were pouring out of their houses now, mostly elderly people, the women wearing bedroom slippers and shapeless dresses or robes, the men in their sleeveless undershirts. There were a few high-pitched, excited children's voices, the sound of mothers trying to keep their kids corralled, fathers saying, cautioning people that the metal heap might explode

Just before she reached the car in the street, the driver's side door was thrust open and a belligerent young man erupted from behind the steering wheel.

"What the fuck!"

He yelled, staring at the crumpled front end of his car. He had rear-ended one of the cars parked along the curb.

A young woman came running from the house directly beside them, her eyes wide with horror.

"Omigod, omigod! My car!"

The belligerent young man rounded on her.

"This your car, bitch? What the fuck you doin' parking it in the street?"

He was drunk. The fumes hit Bella's nose, and she moved back a step. Around her, she could hear the collective neighborhood concern changing to disgust.

"Someone go get Damon"

She heard an old man mutter.

"I will."

Mrs Flowers headed back down the street, shuffling as fast as she could in her coral terry-cloth bedroom slippers.

Yeah, where was he? Bella wondered. Everyone else who lived on the street was out here.

The young woman whose car had been smashed was crying, her hands over her mouth as she stared at the wreckage. Behind her, two young children, about five and seven, stood uncertainly on the sidewalk.

"Goddamned bitch,"

The drunk snarled, starting toward the young woman.

"Hey, watch your language."

One of the older men piped up.

"Fuck you, pops."

He reached the crying woman and clamped a heavy hand on her shoulder, spinning her around. Bella started forward, pure anger flaring in her chest.

"Hey, buddy, leave her alone."

She said sharply.

"Yeah"

A quavering elderly voice said from behind her.

"Fuck you, too, bitch; this stupid bitch wrecked my car."

"You wrecked your own car. You're drunk and ran into a parked car."

She knew it was a losing effort; you couldn't reason with a drunk. The problem was, the guy was just drunk enough to be aggressive and not drunk enough to be staggering. He shoved the young woman, and she stumbled backward, caught her foot on a protruding root of one of the big trees that lined the street, and sprawled on the sidewalk. She cried out, and her children screamed and began crying.

Unthinkingly Bella charged him, bulldozing into him from the side. The impact sent him staggering. He tried to regain his balance but instead fell on his butt, his feet in the air. He struggled up and with another lurid curse lunged for Bella who was heading to the fallen woman.

Feeling something hit her from behind Bella fell on her knees before rolling over and taking a boxing stance, learned from many lessons with Phil masked as bonding time with his stepdaughter.

Those times usually ended with Phil sitting on her chest while she was clawing him and barely managing to mock stab him with a rock or a branch, so she was certain she was about to get stomped, but maybe she'd get in a few good punches.

Most probably not though. She heard excited, alarmed voices around her, but they were oddly distant as she focused on staying alive.

"Somebody call nine-one-one."

"Daisy's getting Damon. He'll handle it."

"I've already called nine-one-one."

That was a little girl's voice.

The drunk charged, and this time there was no evading him. She went down under his onslaught, kicking and punching and trying to block his punches all at the same time. One of his fists hit her in the rib cage, and the power behind it stunned her. Immediately they were surrounded by her neighbors, the few younger men trying to wrestle the drunk off her, the older guys helping by kicking him with their slippered feet. Bella and the drunk rolled, and a few of the older guys were mowed down, collapsing on top of the heap.

Her head thudded against the ground, and a glancing blow stung her cheekbone. One arm was pinned by a fallen neighbor, but with her free hand she managed to grab a chunk of flesh at the guy's waist and twist it, pinching as hard as she could closing her teeth around a hand trying to cut her breath at the throat. He bellowed like a wounded water buffalo.

Then abruptly he was gone, lifted from her as if he weighed no more than a pillow. Dazed, she saw him slam to the ground beside her, his face mashed into the dirt as his arms were wrenched behind him and handcuffs snapped around his wrists.

She struggled to a sitting position and found herself practically nose to nose with her neighbor the jerk.

"Damn it, I might have known it was you, I should arrest both of you on drunk and disorderly charges."

He snarled.

"I'm not drunk!"

She said indignantly.

"No, he's drunk, and you're disorderly!"

The unfairness of his charge made her choke with rage, which was a good thing, because the words that hung in her throat probably would have gotten her arrested for real.

Around her, anxious wives were helping doddering husbands to their feet, fussing over them and checking for scrapes or broken bones. No one seemed much the worse for the fracas, and she figured the excitement would keep their hearts beating for several more years, at least.

Several women were clustered around the young woman who had been shoved down, clucking and fussing. The back of the woman's head was bleeding, and her kids were still crying. In sympathy, or maybe because they were feeling left out, a couple more kids began wailing. Sirens screeched in the distance, coming closer with every second.

Crouched beside the captive drunk, holding him down with one hand, Damon looked around in disbelief.

"Jesus,"

He muttered, shaking his head.

The old lady from across the street, her gray hair in pin curls, leaned over Bella.

"Are you all right, dear? That was the bravest thing I ever saw! You should have been here, Damon. When that. That hoodlum shoved Amy down, this young lady knocked him flat on his butt. What's your name, dear?"

She asked, turning back to Bella.

"I'm Eleanor Holland; I live across the street from you."

"Bella"

She supplied, and glared at her next-door neighbor.

"Yeah, Damon, you should have been here."

"I was in the shower, Are you all right?"

He growled. He paused.

"I'm fine."

She scrambled to her feet. She didn't know if she was fine or not, but she didn't seem to have any broken bones and she wasn't dizzy, so there couldn't be any major damage. He was looking at her bare legs.

"Your knee is bleeding."

He said in a choked tone as if he had never seen a bloody cut before. Bella looked down and noticed that the left pocket of her denim shorts was almost torn off. Blood trickled down her shin from a scrape on her right knee. She jerked the torn pocket the rest of the way off and pressed the cloth to her knee.

"It's just a scrape."

The cavalry in the form of two patrol cars and a medic truck arrived with flashing lights. Uniformed officers began wading through the crowd, while neighbors directed the medics to the injured.

Thirty minutes later, it was all over. Wreckers had hauled the two damaged cars away, and the uniforms had hauled the drunk away. The injured young woman, kids in tow, had been taken to an emergency room to have the cut on the back of her head stitched. Minor scrapes had been cleaned and bandaged, and the elderly warriors shepherded home.

Bella waited until the medics were gone, then peeled the huge wad of gauze and tape off her knee. Now that the excitement was over, she was exhausted; all she wanted was a hot shower, a chocolate chip cookie, and bed. She yawned as she began trudging down the street to her house.

The jerk fell into step beside her. She glanced up at him, and then focused straight ahead. She didn't like the look on his face or the way he loomed over her like a dark cloud. Damn, the man was big, a couple of inches, maybe three, over six feet, and with shoulders that looked a yard wide.

"Do you always jump feet first into dangerous situations?"

He asked in a conversational tone. She thought about it.

"Yeah"

She finally said.

"Figures"

She stopped in the middle of the street and turned to face him, her hands planted on her hips.

"Look, what was I supposed to do, just stand there while he beat her to a pulp?"

"You might have let a couple of the men grab him."

"Yeah, well, no one was grabbing him, so I didn't wait around."

A car turned the corner, coming toward them. He took her arm and moved her out of the street.

"You're what, five-three?"

He asked, assessing her.

She scowled at him.

"Five-five."

He rolled his eyes, and his expression said, Yeah, right. She ground her teeth. She was five-five - almost. What did a tiny fraction of an inch matter?

"Bella, the woman he hurt, is a good three inches taller than you and probably outweighs you by almost thirty pounds. What made you think you could handle him?"

"I'm used to charging at guys much scarier than a drunkard"

She said in a tone that bore no room for argument

"With a guy saving you while you cry over your broken nails?"

He mocked, his blue eyes merry. Her brown ones tightened as she glared with all her might

I can't slug a cop, she thought. I can't slug a cop. She repeated that to herself several times. Finally she managed to say, in an admirably even tone,

"I don't cry over broken nails"

"But you jumped him anyway."

She shrugged.

"It was a moment of insanity."

"No argument there."

That did it. She stopped again.

"Look, I've had it with your snide remarks. I stopped him from beating that woman to a pulp in front of her kids. Jumping him like that wasn't a smart thing to do, and I fully realize I could have been hurt. I'd do it again. Now carry your ass on down the street, because I don't want to walk with you."

"Tough"

He said, and latched on to her arm again. She had to walk, or be dragged. Since he wouldn't let her walk home by herself, she picked up her pace. The sooner they parted company, the better.

"You in a hurry?"

He asked, his grip on her arm reeling her back in and forcing her to match his more leisurely stride.

"Yeah. I'm missing -"

She tried to think what was on television, but drew a blank.

"BooBoo's due to cough up a hair ball and I want to be there."

"You like hair balls, huh?"

"They're more interesting than my present company,"

She said sweetly fluttering her lashes for effect. He grimaced.

"Ouch."

They drew even with her house, and he had to release her.

"Put ice on the knee so it won't bruise"

"Give me my pendant back and I'll consider it"

He blinked

"What pendant?"

Bella smiled even sweeter

"The one you snapped from my neck while you were cuffing the drunk. It's mine and I want it back"

Damon opened the fist that wasn't holding on to her arm and the dainty chain dangled making the lapis stone catch the light of her porch light

"I don't think it's yours"

"It has my initial on it"

Damon seemed to consider it and after a long moment he let the pendant fall in her open hand. Bella nodded, took a few steps, then turned back to find him still standing at the end of her walk, watching her.

"Thanks for getting a new muffler."

He started to say something sarcastic, she could see it in his expression, but then he shrugged and merely said,

"You're welcome."

He paused.

"Thank you for my new trash can."

"You're welcome."

They stared at each other for a moment longer, as if waiting to see which one would start the battle anew, but Bella put an end to the standoff by turning around and going inside. She locked the door behind her and stood for a moment, looking at the cozy, already familiar, feels-like-home living room. BooBoo had been at the cushion again; more stuffing was strewn on the carpet. Letting her head fall against the door she fastened the pendant around hr neck only then realizing why she was frowning over the Jerk's reluctance to give it back. He wore the same monstrosity on his ring finger.

She sighed.

"Forget the chocolate chip cookie. This calls for ice cream. Maybe with chip cookies in it"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Bella woke up early the next morning, without benefit of clock or sun. The simple act of rolling over woke her, because every muscle in her body screamed in protest. Her ribs ached, her knee stung, her arms ached every time she moved them; even her butt was sore. She hadn't had this many aches and pains since the 'meeting' at the dance studio with James over a year earlier.

Groaning, she eased into a sitting position and inched her legs over the side of the bed. If she felt this bad, she wondered how the old guys felt. They hadn't been punched, but the fall would have been rougher on them.

From her previous knowledge of bruises she knew that cold was better for sore muscles than heat was, but she didn't think she was brave enough to face a cold shower. She'd rather tackle a belligerent drunk any time than stand naked under a freezing blast of water. She compromised by showering in tepid water, then gradually turned the hot water completely off. Gradually working up to the cold water didn't help; she stood it for about two seconds, and then climbed out of the shower much faster than she had climbed in.

Getting up early had one advantage: she got to wake up BooBoo, rather than the other way around.

He didn't take kindly to having his beauty rest disturbed. The disgruntled cat hissed at her, then stalked off to find a more private place to sleep. Bella smiled at the revenge.

She lingered over her coffee, a rare weekday treat and whipped herself a waffle slicing up some strawberries and chocolate cream to go on top. After all, a woman who had been in a brawl deserved a little extra treat.

Her first real surprise of the day came when she began dressing and put on a bra. As soon as she placed it over her breasts, tightening the band around her sore rib cage, she knew the bra had to go. Standing in front of her closet naked she faced another dilemma: what did a braless woman wear if she didn't want anyone to know she was braless? In Forks she could make do with a flannel shirt even in summer but she wasn't in Forks anymore.

Even in an air-conditioned office, the weather in Mystic Falls was too hot for her to keep a thick shirt on all day. She had some dresses, but her nipples would be plainly outlined beneath the thin fabrics. She let out a sigh. She hadn't been this worried over clothes since she had had enough of Alice meddling in her closet and had thrown all the expensive dresses the pixie vampire had stuffed n her closet.

In the end she settled on a pair of white jeans, a white corset that didn't look like a bra and a sheer apple red tunic that ended mid-thigh.

"Not bad, not bad at all."

She said, turning to examine the result.

Luckily her hair was no problem. It was thick and glossy, a nice dark brown, and had plenty of body. Her current style was a sort of long mane that behaved as long as she braided before bed and she had done that before the unplanned fight so all she did now was replace the baby purple ribbon with a white one.

But there was a bruise on her cheekbone. She scowled in the mirror and gingerly touched the small blue spot. It wasn't sore, but it was definitely blue. She seldom did a makeup job but today she would have to bring out the big guns.

By the time she sashayed out the door in her east-inspired outfit and with full battle paint in place, she thought she looked pretty damn good.

The jerk was unlocking his car door when she stepped out. She turned and took her time locking the door behind her, hoping he would simply get into his car and leave, but no such luck.

"Are you okay?"

He asked, his voice right behind her, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Stifling a shriek, she whirled. Bad move. Her ribs protested; she gave an involuntary groan and dropped her keys.

"Damn it! Stop sneaking up on me like that!"

She shouted, when she could breathe again.

"It's the only way I know, if I waited until you turned around, I wouldn't be sneaking."

He said with his face expressionless. Any other time (or person) she might have laughed, but she was still mad at him for scaring her. Her ribs hurt, and when she tried to stoop down to retrieve her keys, they hurt even more. Not only that, her knee refused to bend. She straightened and gave him a look of such frustrated fury that one corner of his mouth twitched. If he laughs, she thought, I'm going to lock him under the chin. Since she was still standing on her porch the angle was perfect.

He didn't laugh. He bent down to pick up her keys.

"The knee won't bend, huh?"

"I've had worse"

She said taking the keys and easing down the three steps moving with the grace or a cardboard, straight and locked. Damon looked her up and down

"What's wrong with your ribs?"

"He landed a punch."

He blew out an exasperated breath.

"Why didn't you say something last night?"

"Why? They're not broken, just bruised."

"You know this for a fact, huh? You don't think maybe they could be cracked?"

"They don't feel cracked."

"And you have so much experience with cracked ribs you know how they feel."

She set her jaw annoyed.

"Actually I do. They're my ribs, and I say they're not cracked. End of discussion."

"Tell me something,"

He said conversationally, strolling beside her as she stalked, as best as she was able, to her car.

"Is there ever a day when you don't pick a fight?"

"The days when I don't see you. Besides you started it! I was prepared to be a nice neighbor, but you snarled at me every time you saw me, even though I apologized when BooBoo got on your car. Besides, I thought you were a drunk."

He stopped, surprise etched on his face considering she was right.

"A drunk?"

"Bloodshot eyes, dirty clothes, getting home in the wee hours of the morning, making a lot of noise, grouchy all the time as if you had a hangover. What else was I to think?"

He rubbed his face.

"Sorry, I wasn't thinking. I should have showered, shaved, and dressed in a suit before I came out to tell you that you were making enough noise to raise the dead."

"Just grabbing a clean pair of jeans would have sufficed."

She unlocked the Bug considering another problem: how was she going to get into the low-slung car? With Big Red she would sit and slide, the seat was the same height as her butt but Blue Bug? This was going to hurt

"I'm refinishing my kitchen cabinets,"

He offered after a short pause.

"With the hours I've been working lately, I have to do it a little at a time, and sometimes I fall asleep with my dirty clothes on."

"Did you ever think of leaving the cabinets until your off days and getting a little more sleep? It might help your disposition."

"There's nothing wrong with my disposition."

"No, not if it belongs to a rabid skunk."

She said sweetly. She opened the car door, flung her purse inside, and tried to psych herself up for the effort of sliding behind the wheel.

"Nice set of wheels Barbie"

He said, looking the car over. Bella rolled her eyes.

"Thanks JohnJohn"

She glanced at his poop brown car and didn't say anything. Sometimes silence was more charitable than words. He saw the glance and grinned. She wished he hadn't done that; the grin made him look almost human. She wished they weren't standing out in the early morning sun, because she could see how dense his black eyelashes were and the rich blue striations in his dark eyes. Okay, so he wasn't a bad-looking man, when his eyes weren't reddened and he wasn't snarling.

Suddenly his eyes went cold. He reached out and gently rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone.

"You have a bruise there."

"Darn it, I thought I had it covered."

"You did a good job. I didn't see it until you were standing in the sun."

He crossed his arms and scowled down at her.

"Any other injuries?"

"Just sore muscles. I've been dreading having to get in the car."

She looked ruefully at the car in question.

He looked at the car, then at her as she gripped the open door and slowly, painfully lifted her right leg and eased it inside. He blew out a breath, as if steeling himself to perform an unpleasant task, and held her arm to steady her as she inched her way under the wheel.

"Thanks,"

She said, relieved the task was over.

"Sure."

He crouched down in the open door.

"You want to file charges for assault?"

She pursed her lips.

"I hit him first."

She thought he might be fighting another grin. God, she hoped he won; she didn't want to see another one so soon. She might start thinking he was good looking

"There is that"

He agreed. He stood up and started to close the car door for her.

"A massage will help the soreness"

He grinned. She couldn't help but grin back

"A massage by one of the wolves. Heat all over. Thanks for the suggestion"

She gave him a salacious wink and started the engine. His stupefied expression melted off as she put more distance between them and he began laughing showing off his very white teeth and the sound of his deep rich laughter followed Bella all the way to work

The conversation that morning at work was exclusively about the article in the newsletter, split fifty-fifty between the contents and speculation about the identity of the four women. Most were of the opinion the entire article was the brainchild of the author, that the four friends were fictitious, which suited Bella just fine. She kept her mouth shut and her fingers crossed.

"I scanned the article and sent it to my cousin in -"

She overheard someone say as he walked past in the hallway. She was fairly certain he wasn't talking about an article in the Mystic Daily. Great, it was spreading.

She had her lunch alone in the cafeteria and was thinking of calling Phil to let him know he had another relative in town when Jane Upir entered and took her neatly packed lunch out of the refrigerator. She had a sandwich (turkey breast and lettuce on whole wheat), a cup of vegetable soup (which she heated in the microwave), and an orange. Bella sighed, torn between hate and understanding. Everyone knew Jane was a vampire, why keep up appearances with a full lunch? Why actually throw away a perfectly good meal?

"May I join you?"

Jane asked, and Bella felt a twinge of guilt. Since they were the only two people in the snack room, she should have asked her to sit down. Most people would simply have sat down already yet Jane still asked. It's one more thing that reminded Bella of Edward.

"Sure"

Bella said, trying to infuse some warmth into her voice. Jane got her meal arranged and sat down at the table and began shredding it meticulously; taking sips of a travel mug every now and then. Bella began eating her fruit salad quietly but soon gave up. Jane did the thing all human hated and that was to stare at the human being human. After a moment Jane said

"I suppose you saw that disgusting newsletter yesterday."

Disgusting was one of Jane's favorite words, Bella had noticed.

"I glanced at it. I didn't read the entire thing"

She said, because it seemed pointless to dance around.

"People like that make me ashamed to be a woman."

Well, that was going a little too far. Bella knew she should leave it alone, because Jane was Jane and nothing was going to change her. But some little demon inside - okay, the same demon that always prompted her to open her mouth when she should keep it shut - made her say,

"Why is that? I thought they were honest."

Jane put down her drink and gave Bella an outraged look.

"Honest? They sounded like whores. All they wanted in a man was money and a big. a big -"

"Penis"

Bella supplied, since Jane didn't seem to know the word.

"And I don't think that was all they wanted. I seem to remember something about fidelity and dependability, sense of humor -"

Jane dismissed that with a wave of her hand.

"Believe that if you want, but the entire point of the whole article was sex and money. It was obvious. It was also vicious and cruel, because just think how it made men who didn't have a lot of money and a big - "

"Penis, It's called a penis."

Bella interrupted. Leah pressed her lips together.

"Some things aren't meant to be discussed in public, but I've noticed before you have a potty mouth."

Bella annoyed sat up straighter despite her protesting ribs

"Penis isn't a dirty word, Jane. It's the correct word for a body part, just like saying `leg.' Or do you have an objection to legs, too?"

Jane gripped the edge of the table with both hands, holding so tightly the table began chipping. Bella suddenly had visions of mortality

"As I was saying, think how it made those men feel. They must think they aren't good enough, that they're somehow inferior."

"Some of them are"

"No one should be made to feel that way,"

Jane said, her voice rising. She took another sip of sandwich, and Bella saw, to her surprise, that the other woman's hands were shaking. She was genuinely upset.

"Look, I think most people who read the article thought it was funny,"

She said in a conciliatory tone.

"It was obviously meant to be a humorous piece."

"I don't feel that way at all. It was filthy, ugly, and mean-spirited."

So much for conciliation.

"I don't agree"

Bella said flatly, gathering up her trash and depositing it in a can.

"I think people see what they expect to see. Someone who's mean expects others to be just as mean, the way people with dirty minds see smut everywhere."

Jane went whiter.

"Are you saying I'm dirty-minded?"

"You said it"

Bella went back to her office before their little disagreement escalated into open warfare. What was wrong with her lately? First her neighbor and now Jane. She didn't seem able to get along with anyone, not even BooBoo. Of course, no one got along with Jane, so she didn't know if that should count, but she was definitely going to make a bigger effort to get along with the Jerk. So he rubbed her the wrong way; she had evidently been doing a good job of rubbing him the wrong way, too.

Caroline was waiting in her office when she entered it. The normally tan Caroline was now paler than Jane

"A reporter is here talking to Anna. God, you don't think?"

Caroline looked at Bella; Bella looked at Caroline.

"Ah, shit"

That night, a man stared at the newsletter, reading and rereading the article. It was filth, pure filth.

His hands were shaking, making the little words dance. Didn't they know how this hurt? How could they laugh?

He wanted to throw the SPC newsletter away, but he couldn't. Anguish gnawed at him. He couldn't believe he actually worked with the people who had said all these hurtful things, who mocked and terrorized…

He took a deep breath. He had to control himself. But he couldn't. This was too important.

Who were they? He needed to know. He had to know.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

It was like having the Sword of Damocles hanging over her head, Bella thought gloomily the next morning. It hadn't dropped yet, but she knew it would. The "when" depended on how long it took Anna to spill the beans that she had gotten the list from Rebekah. Once Rebekah's identity was known, they might as well all start wearing signs that said, "I'm guilty."

Caroline was worried sick, and if Bella had been dating the volatile mutt named Klaus, she would probably have been worried sick, as well. How could something that had been innocent fun between four slightly drunk friends have turned into something like that?

She hadn't slept well, again. She had taken more aspirin for her sore muscles, soaked in a hot tub, and by the time she went to bed, she was feeling much more comfortable. Fretting about that darn article kept her awake long past her usual bedtime, and BooBoo chasing a raven woke her before dawn. She positively dreaded getting the morning paper, and as for going to work - she would rather wrestle another drunk. On loose gravel.

She drank coffee and watched the sky lighten. BooBoo had evidently won against the bird because he brought her a few loose black feathers and sat on her lap on a pillow washing his paws and purring whenever she absently scratched behind his ears.

What then happened wasn't her fault. She was standing at the sink rinsing out her cup when the kitchen light in the house across the way flicked on and Damon walked into view.

She stopped breathing. Her lungs seized, and she stopped breathing.

"Sweet baby Jesus"

She croaked, and managed to inhale.

She was seeing more of Damon than she had ever thought she would; everything, in fact. He stood in front of the refrigerator, stark naked, long scratches on his biceps. She barely had time to admire before he took a paper carton of cranberry juice from the fridge, twisting off the top and tilting it to his mouth as he turned around.

She forgot all about his back. He was more impressive coming than he was going, and that was saying something, because his butt was severely cute. The man was hung.

"My God, BooBoo, take a look at that!"

She gasped. Damon looked pretty damn good all over. He was tall, lean in the waist, hard-muscled. She wrenched her gaze north just a little and saw that he had a nice well built chest. She already knew he had a good face, if a bit weary. Sexy ice blue eyes, white fangs, and a good laugh. And he was hung.

She pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was doing more than pitter-pattering; it was trying to sledgehammer its way through her sternum. Other parts of her body were joining in the excitement. In a moment of insanity, she thought about running right over to audition as his mattress.

Oblivious of the band war her organs had turned into inside her, as well as the heart-stopping view across the way, BooBoo continued licking his feet. His priorities were obviously a real mess.

Bella gripped the sink to keep from folding in a limp heap on the floor. It was a good thing she was practically related to him via Phil's marriage to her mother, or she really might have charged across the two driveways and right up to his kitchen door. But practically related or not, she still appreciated art, and her neighbor was a work of art, hovering somewhere between classic Grecian statue and porn star. And she once thought Edward was good looking...

She hated to do it, but she had to tell him to close his curtains; it was the neighborly thing to do, right? Blindly, not wanting to miss a moment of the show, she reached for the phone, and then paused. She didn't know his number.

Thinking that old ladies know everything and everyone in small towns she called Daisy Flowers and belatedly worried that she might not be awake yet. Mrs. Flowers answered on the first ring.

"Hello!"

Was chirped so enthusiastically Bella knew she hadn't woken her.

"Hi Mrs Daisy. It's Bella Swan. How are you?"

Social niceties had to be observed, after all, and with the older generation that could take a while. She was hoping for ten or fifteen minutes. She watched as Damon killed the bottle of red juice and tossed the empty.

"Oh, Bella! It's so nice to hear from you!"

Mrs Flowers said, as if she had been out of the country or something. The old lady was one of those people who talked in exclamation points when she was on the phone.

"I'm fine, just fine! And you?"

"Fine"

She answered automatically, not missing a minute of the action. Now he was getting out the Johny. Eww! Surely he wasn't going to mix juice and alcohol. He opened the bottle and sniffed it. His biceps bulged as his arm lifted making the gushes bleed again. Lucky woman whoever gave them to him

"My, oh, my,"

She whispered. He took a long gulp of the scotch and set it aside.

"What was that?"

Mrs Flowers said.

"Uh - I said fine, just fine."

Bella wrenched her attention from its wayward path.

"Miss Flowers what is Damon's number? I need to call him about something."

That was an understatement.

"Damon Salvatore dear? I don't think you want the boarding house number you already have that so you must want the new number."

Mrs Flowers laughed and Bella chuckled along not paying attention to her words since they weren't numerical. A few moments of laughter and as Miss Flowers slowly recited the number, and Bella jotted it down on the small whiteboard on her fridge, which wasn't easy to do without looking at what she was writing. Her neck muscles were locked in the upright position, so she had no choice but to look through the kitchen window next door.

She thanked Miss Flowers and said good-bye agreeing to let the older woman call the plumber about something and then took a deep breath. She had to do this. No matter how it hurt, how it would deprive her, she had to call him. She took another deep breath and dialed his number. She saw him cross the kitchen and pick up a cordless. He was standing in profile to her. Oh, wow. Double wow.

Saliva gathered in her mouth. The damn man had her all but slobbering.

"Yes"

His deep voice was rusty, as if he wasn't truly awake yet, and the single word clipped with irritation.

"Urn. Damon?"

"Yeah?"

Not the most welcoming of responses. She tried to swallow and found it was difficult to do when her tongue was hanging out. She reeled it in and sighed with regret.

"This is Bella, next door. I hate to tell you this, but you might want to close your curtains."

He wheeled to face the window, and they stared at each other across the two driveways. He didn't dart to the side, or squat out of sight, or do anything else that might indicate embarrassment. Instead, he grinned.

"Got an eyeful, did you?"

He asked as he walked to the window and reached for the curtains.

"Yes, I did."

She hadn't blinked in five minutes, at least.

"Thank you."

He pulled the curtains together, and her whole body went into mourning.

"My pleasure. Maybe you can return the favor sometime."

He chuckled and hung up before she could reply, which was a good thing, because she was speechless as she closed her blinds. Mentally she smacked her forehead. Duh! All she would have had to do at any time was close her own blinds.

"Yeah, like I'm stupid or something,"

She said to BooBoo. The cat stared at her and licked his bloody whiskers.

The image of taking her clothes off for him shook her - and excited her. What was she, an exhibitionist? How could he go from jerk to tempting just by taking off his clothes?

"Am I so shallow?"

She asked BooBoo, and considered the idea for a moment, then nodded.

"You betcha."

BooBoo meowed, evidently in agreement.

Oh, dear. How could she look at Damon again without remembering how he looked naked? How could she meet him without blushing or letting him see that she had a major case of the hots for his body? She was much more comfortable having him as an adversary than she was seeing him as an object of lust. She preferred her lust objects at a safer distance. Say, on a movie screen.

He hadn't been embarrassed, though, so why should she? They were both adults, right? She had seen naked men before. On TV. She just had never seen Damon naked before. Why couldn't he have had a beer belly and a shriveled wiener, instead of rock-hard abs and an impressive morning erection?

She began drooling again.

"This is disgusting; I've seen naked shape shifters. I should at least be able to control my saliva glands over a human man."

She said aloud. Her saliva glands thought differently. Every time an image of Damon popped into her head, which was about every ten seconds - she had to enjoy the image for about nine seconds before she banished it - she would have to swallow. Repeatedly.

She had left for work early yesterday morning, when Damon had been leaving at the same time. If she left at her regular time today, he should already be gone, right?

But he'd said he kept irregular hours, therefore he might leave at any time. She couldn't time her departure so it didn't coincide with his; she would have to carry on as usual and keep her fingers crossed. Maybe tomorrow she would be able to face him with more composure, but not today, not with her body revved and her saliva glands working overtime. She should just forget about it and get ready for work.

She stood in front of her open closet door and found herself in a dilemma. What did one wear when she might meet her neighbor whom she had just seen naked? Besides a condom.

"Pants. Definitely pants"

she said out loud picking a pair of black pants choosing to ignore how she had always liked the way the pants clung to her butt, or that it never failed to elicit a few admiring remarks from the males around her and paired it with a red vest, the color of fresh blood.

She had just covered the bruise on her cheekbone when the female anchor of the local morning newscast finished describing an animal attack on the bridge the night before and switched to a happier topic.

"Freud never found out what it is that women want. If he had talked to four area women, however, he would have known the answer to his famous question. Find out if your husband or boyfriend is Mr. Perfect when we return, after these messages."

Bella was stunned.

"Fuck my life"

Feeling suddenly weak she leaned forward on the makeup table. Anna, the bitch, must have given them up immediately. No - if she had named names, the phone would have been ringing nonstop. So far they were still anonymous, but that was bound to change today.

She walked to the bedside able to grab her phone and dialed Caroline's number, silently praying that her friend hadn't yet left for work. Caroline lived in Klaus' family mansion by the Falls so both she and Rebekah left home a little earlier.

"Hello"

Caroline sounded rushed, and a little irritable.

"It's Bella. Have you seen the news yet this morning?"

"No why?"

"The Perfect Man made the news."

"Oh. My. God"

Caroline sounded as if she might faint, or vomit, or both.

"They don't have our names yet, I don't think, since no one has called. Someone at work will figure it out today, though, so that means by afternoon it'll be common knowledge."

"But it won't be on TV, will it? Klaus always watches the news"

"Who knows? I guess it depends on how slow news is today. Al I heard about was a vamp attack on the bridge but those are fairly common. I'm turning off all the phones and unplug the one that's hooked to the answering machine. I suggest you do the same"

"Done,"

Caroline said. She paused and said bleakly,

"I guess I'll find out if Klaus and I have anything worth holding on to, won't I? I can't expect him to be happy about this, but I do expect him to be understanding. After we talked about our Perfect Man last week, I did some thinking, and, well."

And Klaus hadn't compared very favorably, Bella thought.

"On second thought, if it's going to happen, I'd rather just get it over with."

After she hung up, Bella hurried to finish getting ready. The phone call hadn't taken long, and the television commercials were just ending. The newscaster's perky voice made her flinch.

"Four area women have gone public with their list of requirements for the perfect man."

Three minutes later, Bella closed her eyes and sagged weakly on her bed. Three minutes! Three minutes was an eternity of airtime. Of all the days for there to be no teenage boys going vandals or the hospital being robbed of blood bags or even news about the real world outside the boarders of Mystic Falls - anything to keep such an insignificant story off the air!

The news story had stopped short of the raunchy requirements, but made sure the viewers knew they could get the List, as it was being called, and the accompanying article, in their entirety, on the station's Web site. Women and men had been interviewed for their reaction to items on the List. Everyone seemed to agree with the first five requirements, but after that opinions began to vary widely - usually with women taking one view and men the other.

Maybe if she took a week's vacation, starting immediately, this would all have blown over by the time she got back from Outer Mongolia.

But that would be the coward's way out. If Caroline needed supporting, Bella knew she had to be there for her. Rebekah could also be facing the end of a relationship, but in Bella's opinion, losing Brickhead wouldn't be much of a loss, and besides, Rebekah deserved some flack for spilling this whole thing to Anna in the first place. With dread weighting down her every step, she forced herself out to the car. As she unlocked it, she heard a door open behind her and automatically glanced over her shoulder.

For a moment she stared blankly at Damon as he turned to lock his kitchen door; then memory came roaring back, and in panic she fumbled with the door handle.

Nothing like a little notoriety to make a woman forget she wanted to avoid a certain man, she thought savagely. Had he been watching for her?

"Are you feeling better today?"

He asked as he strolled up.

"Fine"

She tossed her purse into the passenger seat and slid under the wheel grabbing her sunglasses and slid them on, pathetically grateful for the protection they gave her as she dared to glance at him.

"You?"

He shrugged. The movement made her notice how broad his shoulders were, and that reminded her of other parts of his body. Heat began to build in her cheeks. Why couldn't he have been a drunk? Why wasn't he still wearing sweatpants and a stained, torn T-shirt, instead of tight black jeans and a black silk shirt? That big black pistol rested in a holster against his right kidney. He looked tough and competent, and way too good for her peace of mind.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you this morning. I was still half-asleep and wasn't paying attention to the windows."

She managed a nonchalant shrug.

"I wasn't embarrassed. Accidents happen."

She wanted to leave, but he was standing so close she couldn't shut the door. He hunkered down in the V formed by the car and the open door.

"Are you sure you're okay? You haven't insulted me yet, and we've been talking about thirty seconds already."

He grinned

"I'm in a mellow mood. I'm saving my energy in case something important comes along."

She said flatly and his grin got wider.

"That's my girl. I feel better now."

He reached out and lightly touched her cheekbone.

"The bruise is gone."

"No, it isn't. Makeup is a wonderful thing."

"So it is."

His finger trailed down to the dent in her chin and lightly tapped it before withdrawing. Bella sat frozen, ambushed by the abrupt realization that he was flirting with her, for God's sake, and her heart was doing that sledgehammer thing again. Oh, boy.

"Don't kiss me"

She said warningly, because he seemed somehow closer, though she hadn't seen him move, and his gaze was centered on her face in that intent look men get before they make their move.

"I don't intend to, I don't have my whip and chair with me."

He stood up and stepped back, his hand on the car door to close it. He paused, looking down at her.

"Besides, I don't have time right now. We both have to get to work, and I don't like rush jobs. I'll need a couple of hours, at least."

She knew she should keep her mouth shut. She knew she should just close the car door and drive away. Instead she said blankly,

"A couple of hours?"

"Yeah."

He gave her another of those slow, dangerous smiles.

"Three hours would be even better, because I figure that when I do kiss you, we'll both end up naked."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

"Oh,"

Bella muttered to herself as she drove to work on autopilot, which in the sleepy Mystic Falls was completely safe. Her mind was on the extremely intellectual comment she had made on Damon's back after his suggestion

"Oh"

What kind of snappy comeback was that? Why hadn't she said something like "In your dreams, buddy," or "My goodness, did hell freeze over while I wasn't looking?" Why hadn't she said anything except oh, for cripes sake. She could do better than that in her sleep.

She hadn't even said it nonchalantly, as if she had been asking for information and the answer wasn't very interesting. No, that damn syllable had been so weak it didn't even register on the Wuss-O-Meter. Now he'd think all he had to do was waltz over to her house and she'd fall on her back for him.

The worst part of it was, he might be right. Despite her mental defenses against males, her body was all to willing. At the one and only red light of the main street she shook her head. No way was she going to have a fling with the next-door neighbor, whom only yesterday had thought of as "the jerk".

They were sort of related too. Okay that argument was feeble and she knew it. She wasn't actually related to Phil and had no idea how strongly he was related to Damon. In a town the size of her palm, how could she not know that another Salvatore was there? One that used to live at the very same building she was running? Better yet, how could 'he' not know about her?

On top of all that she didn't even like him. Well, not much. She definitely admired the way he had slammed that drunk facedown on the ground. There were times when brute force was the only satisfying response; she had felt extremely satisfied, seeing the drunk smashed into the dirt and handled as easily as if he'd been a child.

Was there anything else she liked about Damon, other than his body - that was a given - and his ability to manhandle drunks? She thought for a moment. There was also something appealing about a man who refinished his cabinets, though she couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was; a touch of domestication, maybe? He definitely needed something to offset all that macho swagger. Except he didn't swagger; he strolled. He didn't have to swagger when he wore a gun as big as a hair dryer on his belt. As far as phallic symbols went, he pretty much had that aced - not that he needed a symbol with the real deal he had right there in his pants.

Okay. What she was dealing with here was a major case of the hots. The fact was there, and she had to face it, which meant she had to be a sane, intelligent adult about this and get on birth control pills as fast as possible. Not that she'd sleep with him. The pills were just a precaution, in case her hormones overruled her little gray cells. Such a silly thing had never happened before, but then she had dealt with the world's biggest pussy about women and sex. Who needed birth control pills when dating Edward?

What in hell was wrong with her? She'd seen sticky-out parts before. Granted, Damon's was impressive, but... despite how big his penis were, it wasn't nearly as important as the man to whom it was attached. Mr Perfect, Damon he was not.

Mr. Perfect. Memory returned like a slap in the face. Damn, how could she have forgotten?

The same way she had earlier forgotten about Damon and his Lil Damon because she'd been preoccupied with the newscast, that was how. As distractions, both subjects ranked right up there with, say, her house burning down.

Distractions... That was the magic word. It worked for Edward in Forks and it had to work for her now.

Today should be fairly quiet, she thought. Out of all the people who worked at SPC Inc, the odds were several of the people who knew them had seen the newscast and would guess their identities. Someone would directly ask Anna, she would spill the rest of the beans, and the information would flash over the entire building with the speed of a tweet. But as long as that information was contained to work, Caroline had at least a chance of keeping Klaus from finding out. He didn't socialize with them since graduation when he had stood with his brother, both looking severely bored.

Surely there would be something more important that would happen today. With a town filled to the brick of supernaturals of all kinds, unpredictable things were bound to happen. Except those usually involved deaths. Maybe she could convince Bonnie to mess with the weather a bit? A nice bust of hail in the middle of the summer would be a nice distraction.

That should keep the newscasters occupied long enough for Mr. Perfect to be forgotten.

As soon as she pulled up to the gate at SPC though, she saw that her expectation of a quiet day had been optimistic. Three television news vans were parked off to the side. Three scruffy-looking men with Minicams were each filming one of three individuals, a man and two women, who stood in front of the fence with the company in the background. The three reporters were spaced far enough apart that they didn't intrude on each other's shots, and they were talking earnestly into their microphones.

When did Mystic Falls even get three television news? Last she checked there was one, Mystic News, a newspaper Mystic Daily and a radio station. All three were heavily influenced by the writer department in SPC Inc. Bella's stomach made a dive.

"What's going on?"

Were the first words she heard when she entered the building. Two men were walking down the hall ahead of her.

"What's with the TV crews? Have we been bought out or closed down, or something?"

"Didn't you watch the news this morning?"

"Didn't have time."

"Seems some of the women who work here have come up with their own definition of Mr. Perfect. Television stations that we don't even have are running it as a human-interest feature, I guess."

"So what's their definition of Mr. Perfect? Someone who always puts the lid down on the John?"

Whoops, Bella thought. They had forgotten that one.

"No, from what I heard it was the usual Boy Scout junk: faithful and honest and helps old ladies across the street, shit like that."

"Hey, I can do that,"

The first man said in a tone of discovery.

"Then why don't you?"

"I didn't say I wanted to."

They laughed together. Bella entertained herself with a wonderful fantasy of punting both of them through the door ahead, but was content with asking,

"Are you saying you're unfaithful? What a winner!"

They both looked around as if startled to see her there, but they had to have heard the door opening and someone walking behind them, so she didn't fall for the innocent act. She knew their faces but not their names; they were junior management types, late twenties or early thirties, spiffed up in their blue dress shirts and conservative ties.

"Sorry, we didn't see you."

The first man said in insincere apology.

"Right"

She said, rolling her eyes. Then she caught herself; she didn't need to get involved in these conversations. Let this particular battle of the sexes be waged without her; the less attention she and the other three drew, the better for them.

In silence she and the two men strode to the elevators. There was no sign posted there today, making her feel deprived. Rebekah, looking tense, was waiting for her in the office.

"I guess you saw the news,"

She said to Bella. Bella nodded.

"I called Caroline and gave her a heads-up this morning"

"I can't tell you how sorry I am this has happened,"

Rebekah said, lowering her voice as someone walked by the open door.

"I know,"

Bella said, sighing. There wasn't any point in staying pissed at her; what was done was done. And this wasn't the end of the world, not even for Caroline. If Klaus found out about it and went so ballistic that he and Caroline broke up because of it, then the marriage wasn't very strong anyway.

"Anna gave them my name,"

Rebekah went on

"The phone drove me nuts all morning. All the stations want interviews, and so does the News. Who knew we have so many? Did you see the article this morning?"

Bella had totally forgotten about the morning paper; the peep show next door had been too distracting. She shook her head.

"I haven't read the paper yet."

"It was actually pretty cute. It was in the section where they always put recipes and things like that, so maybe not many people read it."

That was good to hear; it was being treated as human interest rather than news, and a lot of people never read what was still thought of as the "women's section." Unless an animal was involved, or a baby, human-interest stories tended to fade fast. This one had already lived past its natural life span.

"Are you going to talk to them? The news people, I mean."

Rebekah shook her head.

"No way. If it was just me, yeah, I'd have a little fun - so what if Brick gets his claws in a wad? But with you guys involved, it's different."

"Caroline's the one with the big worry. I thought about it yesterday, and I don't have anything to lose if my name gets out there, so don't fret about me. Bonnie didn't seem worried, either."

Bella shook her head.

"That's a problem."

"Big time. Personally, I don't think it would be much of a loss if she and Klaus split. I hated it when they first got together ad the big flirtation before that... I thought he was replacing me with her"

Rebekah sniffled quietly. Bella reached across the desk to hold the vampire's hand. Forcing a smile on her face Rebekah continued.

"She probably thinks the same about me and Brick"

Brick was the shape shifter Rebekah had been sleeping with for a while. What they each saw in the other, Bella had no idea but apparently he had the stamina Rebekah liked. Bella didn't want to imagine her friend in bed with anyone.

"Shit, most of the time I think the same about him."

No argument there, Bella thought.

Amanda Gray, one of the few humans that worked in SPC and internet with Bella in Payroll entered the office holding a stack of paperwork. Judging from the way her green eyes lit when she saw Rebekah and Bella talking, the penny had dropped.

"Hey"

She said, a big grin spreading across her face.

"It's you! I mean, you're the four friends. I should have realized when I read Rebekah's name, but it just now clicked. The other two are that pretty girl in sales and the one in human resources, right? I've seen you go to lunch together."

There was no point in denying it. She and Rebekah looked at each other, Rebekah's eyes slightly blackening in suggestion and Bella shrugged.

"This is so cool!"

Amanda enthused misinterpreting Bella's shrug as agreement instead of what it was. A 'you choose' to Rebekah's silent proposal to try and compel the human.

"I showed the newsletter to my husband yesterday, and he got really pissed when he got to number eight on the list, like he isn't always turning around to look at women with big boobs, you know? I had to laugh. He still isn't speaking to me."

She didn't look very worried.

"We were just having fun; this has gotten out of hand."

Bella said.

"Oh, I don't think so. I think it's great. I told my sister about it, and she wanted a copy of the whole article, not just the little bit that was in this morning's paper."

"Your sister? Your sister who works for one of the networks?"

Rebekah stammered. Bella had never seen a vampire stammer before

"Yes. She's a staffer on a morning show"

"Uh - she just had a personal interest, right?"

Rebekah asked again

"She thought it was hilarious. I wouldn't be surprised if you got a call from them, though. She mentioned what a great feature the List would make."

Amanda sailed to her desk, happy with her part in providing them with publicity.

Bella swallowed and then let out four very naughty words, not a blush in sight for once.

"Wow. I've never heard you say that before."

Rebekah looked impressed.

"I save it for emergencies."

Her phone rang. Bella eyed it. Since it wasn't yet eight o'clock, the phone had no business ringing. There could be nothing but bad news waiting if she answered. On the third ring, Rebekah scooped it up.

"Payroll"

"Oh - Caroline. It's Rebekah. We were talking... Oh, damn, honey, I'm sorry,"

She said, her tone changing to helpless concern. Bella snatched the receiver

"What happened?"

She demanded.

"I'm outed"

Caroline said bleakly.

"I just checked my emails. And there are seven from reporters. I bet you have the same ones"

Bella looked at her black computer screen and made no move to turn the computer on.

"Maybe if Rebekah and I talked to them, that would keep them off you and Bonnie"

She suggested.

"All they want is a story, right? They need a face to go with the story; then it's over with and they move on to something else."

"But they have all our names."

"That doesn't mean they need four interviews. Any comment should satisfy them."

Rebekah, having followed the conversation easily said,

"I can do the interviews by myself, if you think it would work."

Caroline heard the offer without needing Bella to repeat it to her

"It's worth a shot, I suppose. But I'm not going to run from this. If they aren't satisfied after they talk to you and Bekah, or just Bekah, then we'll all four sit down and give them their interview, and whatever happens will happen. I refuse to feel guilty and worried because we were having fun and made up a silly list."

Caroline's voice had the slightest trail of steel it used to have long before Bella moved to town and Rebekah smiled hearing it. She nodded and Bella relayed that message before hanging up and turning to the blonde across from her.

"I'll call Bonnie and fill her in, and then I'll call those reporters back and set up something for lunch. I'll take all the heat; downplay it as much as I can. This can work."

Bella bit her bottom lip

"Can you compel yourself to believe that?"

All morning long people stuck their heads in the door and made laughing comments to her; at least, the women did. Bella also received a couple of measuring offers, as she had expected, from two of the guys and a few sarcastic remarks from others. Jane Upir gave her a horrified look and stayed far away, which suited Bella just fine, though she expected to see a "whore of Babylon" sign appear on her desk at any time. Jane was having more problems with this than Caroline and that was saying a lot.

All the emails in her work account that day were reporters. She deleted them without a single reply and then deleted her voice machine without checking that either. For once she was glad her mother was out of the country and she was out of contact with her father.

Rebekah must have been busy doing her mop-up campaign, because there weren't any additional calls after about nine. The sharks, promised some chum, were now circling Rebekah and her nifty original compulsion.

Why had the town agreed to spike the water towers with vervain? If they hadn't this whole stupid thing would have been over with just a lie by the Original daughter

Just in case the barbarians were still at the gate, Bella chickened out and bought her lunch from the snack room vending machines. If the diversion didn't work and this was only the quiet before the storm, she intended to make the most of it. As it turned out, there wasn't that much quiet, because the snack room was full of people who had brought their lunches that day, including Jane, who was sitting alone at a table even though the other tables were crowded. The cold one glared at her and when Bella just stared at her Jane pursed her lips. Bella frowned but then ignored it.

The buzz of conversation transformed into a mixture of catcalls and applause when Bella appeared. The applause, predictably, came only from women.

There was nothing she could do but take a bow, sweeping as low as her scraped knee and sore ribs would allow.

"Thank you, thank you very much,"

She said in her best Elvis imitation.

She fed her money into the machines and escaped as fast as possible, trying to ignore the comments of "That was so funny!" and "Yeah, you women get bitchy if some guy makes a remark about -"

The snack room quickly became a battleground with the lines drawn between the sexes.

"Damn, damn, damn,"

Bella muttered to herself as she went back to her office, diet soft drink and crackers in hand. Bella buried herself in work opting not to even come out for breath. It was almost two pm when her cell phone rang and a fanged Rebekah flashed onscreen

"Interviews are over. Let's see if the heat dies down."

The reporters were no longer camped at the gate when Bella left work. She raced home to catch the local news, skidding to a stop in her driveway and slinging small gravel. She was glad Damon wasn't home, or he'd be coming out to read her the riot act.

BooBoo had been at the cushion again. Bella ignored the clumps of stuffing scattered over the carpet and grabbed the remote, clicking on the television and sitting on the edge of her easy chair. She waited through the stock market report - no crashes or dramatic dips, damn it - the weather, and the sports. Just when she was beginning to hope Rebekah's interview wouldn't air, the newscaster said in a dramatic tone,

"Coming up next: the List. Four local women tell what they want in a man."

She groaned and flopped back in her chair. BooBoo jumped into her lap, the first time he had done so since coming to stay with her. Automatically she scratched his ears, and he began to vibrate.

The commercials ended and the newscast resumed.

"Four local women, Rebekah Mikaelson, Bella Swan, Caroline Forbes and Bonnie Bennett have put together a list of desirable qualities for the perfect man. The four friends work at SPC Inc, and the List, as it has become known, was the result of a recent lunchtime brainstorming session."

Wrong, Bella thought. They'd been at the Grill after work. Either the reporter hadn't asked and just assumed they'd been having lunch together, or "lunchtime" sounded better than "met at a bar after work." Come to think of it, lunchtime would probably work better for Caroline since the Mutt didn't like those Friday after-work get-togethers.

Rebekah's face flashed on the screen. She was smiling, relaxed, and at the reporter's question, threw back her head for a hearty laugh looking incredibly human and young.

"Who doesn't want Mr. Perfect? Of course, each woman would have different requirements, so what we put on our list wouldn't necessarily be on someone else's list."

Okay, that was diplomatic, Bella thought. This was good; nothing controversial so far.

Then Rebekah blew it. The reporter, politically correct down to her toenails, made a comment about the shallowness of the physical requirements on the List. Bekah's eyebrows arched, and she got a beady look in her eyes. Watching, Bella could only groan, because those were Bekah's warning signs before she went on the attack. Well, if she killed the reporter at least the List would be forgotten

"Shallow? I think it's honest. I think every woman daydreams about a man with, shall we say, certain generous parts, don't you?"

"You didn't edit that out!"

Bella shrieked at the television, jumping to her feet and dumping poor BooBoo to the floor. He leaped to safety barely in time, turning to glare at her. She ignored him.

"This is in family time! How could you put something like that on the air?"

Ratings, that was how. With news at a premium, television stations across the country were scrambling for viewers. Sex sells, and Bekah had just sold it for them.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

The phone rang. Bella hesitated, debating whether or not to answer it. No more reporters should be bothering to call, since Bekah had given them their story, but considering the timing, the call was probably from someone who knew her and had just heard her name on television and wanted to talk to her, as if her fifteen minutes of dubious fame could somehow rub off on him/her by association. She didn't want to rehash anything about that damn list; she just wanted it to die. On the other hand, it might be one of the girls.

She finally answered on the seventh ring, prepared to lapse into an accent and pretend to be someone else.

"How could you do this to me?"

A man snapped. Bella blinked, trying to shift gears.

"Ch-Dad?"

Her father hadn't bothered to talk to her in almost a year and was now calling?

"What do you want?"

She asked mystified.

"That thing on television! How could you do that? How do you think it'll make me look?"

This was getting weird. How the hell had news of this reached Forks and her technophobe father?

"You gave your name! My name! Swan isn't a common name in case you've never noticed! Just think of the ribbing I'm going to take at work because of this!"

This was going a bit far... She would understand his point had she still lived under his roof but since she had been kicked out what right did he have to be so prissy about it?

"I don't think it is any of your business"

She said as carefully as possible plastering a wide fake smile on her face so she wouldn't say something she probably wouldn't regret later.

"That's your problem; you never think before you open your big mouth -"

She didn't think now; she just did what came naturally.

"The world does not revolve around you Charlie. Grow up"

She said, and slammed down the phone. Not the most mature reaction, she thought, but a satisfying one.

The phone rang again. No way was she answering it, she thought. The ringing went on and on. After she counted twenty, she snatched up the receiver and yelled,

"What!"

"I knew letting you live alone would be a great thing"

Was her mother's greeting. Bella rubbed between her eyebrows; a definite headache was forming. Charlie was pissed off and Renee was... cool?

"I missed you so much baby"

"How are you mom?"

Bella smiled

"I was great until your father called me shouting and bitching. What did you do?"

Renee asked laughing. Bella shook her head and laughed along

"It was a semi drunk joke that got out of hand"

"Show me, show me, show me"

Bella chuckled at her mother's childlike enthusiasm.

"I'll mail you a copy. Do NOT give it to anyone else; this thing has gone crazy already. How is your trip, where are you now?"

"Rome, we arrived today."

Bella smiled and let her mother's tales of her travels with her husband. Only Renee would decide that backpacking through Europe would be the perfect anniversary trip. Booboo was in her lap purring loud enough to be heard over the phone.

Later she decided to do something productive and wash the car. The modern blue convertible was clean bur she felt antsy and she couldn't concentrate on her novel.

After gathering her chamois cloths, pail, special car-washing soap that wouldn't make the paint job lose its luster, wax, and window cleaner, she let BooBoo out onto the kitchen porch so he could watch the proceedings. Since cats didn't like water, she didn't think he'd be very interested, but she wanted the company. He settled in a patch of late afternoon sunshine and promptly took a kitty nap.

The driveway next door was bereft of dented brown Pontiac, so she didn't have to worry about accidentally spraying the thing and arousing Damon's ire, though in her opinion, a good wash job wouldn't hurt it.

She settled down to industriously washing and rinsing, one section at a time, so the soap didn't have time to dry and cause spots. This particular soap wasn't supposed to spot, but she didn't trust it. She didn't like to admit it but the lessons Rosalie had given her on how to wash a car had stayed with her. Then again Rosalie had taken the Volvo's engine off just because Edward forced her to spend the afternoon with Bella.

"Hey."

"Mommy!"

She shrieked, jumping a foot in the air and dropping her soapy cloth. Her heart nearly exploded out of her chest. She whirled, water hose in hand.

Damon jumped back as water sprayed across his legs.

"Watch what the hell you're doing,"

He snapped. Bella was instantly incensed.

"Okay,"

She said agreeably, and let him have it full in the face. He yelped and dodged to the side. She stood braced, water hose in hand, watching as he rubbed a hand across his dripping face. The first water attack, accidental as it had been, had wet his jeans from the knees down. The second one had pretty much taken care of his T-shirt. The front of it was soaking wet, sticking to his skin like plaster. She tried not to notice the hard planes of his chest.

They faced each other like gunfighters, separated by no more than ten feet.

"Are you fucking crazy?"

He half-shouted.

Anger rising inside her, she let him have it again. She sprayed with a vengeance, chasing him with the stream of water as he tried to dodge and dance out of its way.

"Don't tell me I'm crazy!"

She shouted, putting her finger over the nozzle to narrow the opening and thus get more force, and distance.

"I've had it with people blaming me for everything!"

She got him in the face again.

"I'm so damn sick of you, and Charlie, and the worries about Klaus, and everyone at work, and all the stupid reporters, and BooBoo shredding my cushions! I'm fed up, do you hear?"

He abruptly switched tactics, from evade to attack. He came in low, like a linebacker, not trying to evade the blast of water she aimed at him. Before she could even blink his shoulder crashed into her midriff, the impact driving her back against her car. Quick as a snake striking, he snatched the water hose from her grip. She lunged for the hose, and he wrestled her back into place, pinning her to the Viper with his weight.

They were both breathing hard. He was soaking wet from head to toe, water leaching out of his clothes into hers until she was almost as wet as he. She glared up at him, and he glared down at her, their noses only a few inches apart.

He was smoked. Literally. Steam was rising from his skin. Water was clinging to his lashes.

"You sprayed me"

He accused, as if he couldn't believe she had done such a thing.

"You scared me,"

She accused in return.

"That was when you sprayed me the first time. You did it on purpose the second time."

She nodded.

"You deliberately scared me, and don't try to deny it. That makes the first time fault."

She gave an experimental wiggle, trying to slide out from under the pressure of his weight. Damn, he was heavy, and about as unyielding as the metal behind her.

He squelched her escape attempt by settling even more heavily against her. Water from his clothes dripped down her legs.

"What about the second one?"

Instead of replying Bella noticed the smoke and the smell of burnt flesh he seemed to be emitting.

"You're smoking... Why are you smoking?"

He took a deep breath. The movement of his chest flattened her breasts even more than they already were. Realization hit a second too late, as it often did, and her eyes widened in sudden alarm. He was looking down at her with an unreadable expression.

"Let me go"

She said, more nervous than she cared to reveal.

"No."

"No!"

She repeated.

"You can't say no. It's against the law to hold me against my will."

"I'm not holding you against your will; I'm holding you against your car."

"By force!"

He shrugged an admission. He didn't seem very alarmed at the prospect of violating any laws against manhandling neighbors.

"Let me go"

She said again.

"I can't."

"If you don't let me go, I'll shout the V word. I don't think the oldies up and down the street are desensitized enough to not react to the V word"

He waggled his brows

"Virgin?"

"Vampire"

She said exasperated. When he didn't move on his own she opened her mouth and it was firmly closed by Damon's hand. She squinted her eyes on him

"I can't"

"Why not?"

She asked behind the palm blocking her mouth. Actually, she was afraid she knew why not. 'Why not' had been growing in his wet jeans for a few minutes now. She was doing her dead level best to ignore it, and she was mostly succeeding. Well, she wouldn't be had he not have vampire senses. Why did she always have to be attracted on vampires?

"Because I'm going to do something I'll regret."

He shook his head, as if he didn't understand it himself.

"I still don't have a whip and chair, but what the hell, I'll risk it."

"Wait"

She squeaked, but it was too late. His dark head dipped.

The late afternoon spun away. From somewhere up the street she heard a child shriek with laughter. A car drove by. The faint sound of hedge clippers drifted to her ears. All of that seemed very far away and disconnected from reality. What was real was Damon's mouth on hers, his tongue tangling with hers, the warm male scent of his body in her nostrils and filling her lungs. And his taste - oh, his taste. He tasted like chocolate, as if he had just eaten a Hershey bar. She wanted to devour him.

She realized she was clutching fistfuls of wet cotton fabric. One at a time, without breaking the kiss, he peeled her hands off his shirt and tucked them around his neck, allowing him to settle more completely against her, from knee to shoulder.

How could just a kiss arouse her so totally? But it wasn't just a kiss; he used his entire body, rubbing against hers, moving with a slow, subtle rhythm that was nevertheless as powerful as a sea surge.

He was still holding the water hose in one hand. He locked both arms around her and lifted her a few inches. He tore his mouth free from hers. He was panting, the expression in his eyes hot and wild.

"Let's go inside"

He said the words so low and rough they were almost unintelligible, not much more than a growl.

"Wait!"

She yelled in panic, pushing against his shoulders, uncoiling her legs from around his hips and kicking wildly.

"Stop! Let me go!"

"Stop?"

He said in outraged disbelief. She was still pushing on his shoulders. She was still accomplishing exactly nothing.

"We can't do this"

"Yes we can"

"No we can't!"

"Yes, I can."

"Do you have herpes?"

"No."

"Syphilis?"

"No."

"Gonorrhea?"

"No."

"AIDS?"

"No!"

"Even if you did vampires can't get STD's"

"Yay for you. Now put me down!"

"No"

"Yes"

"No"

He said petulantly

"Stop being a child and put me down"

"Can I put you down in my bed?"

"No!"

She said exasperated. A smile was begging to appear on her lips at the role reversal of her saying no and a horny vampire begging.

"Why?"

"Three reasons: One, Up until yesterday I hated you. In fact I'm not sure I like you now"

"I don't mind a hate f-"

"Two"

She interrupted him

"I'd prefer you feed. I really don't want you to tap a vein at the worst possible moment"

"I ate yesterday"

"And third, your ring"

"What about it?"

"It's the same as my pendant. I don't know how you're related to Phil but I'm not into almost incest"

"Almost?"

"My mother is married to a Salvatore"

"Trust me I'm old enough to just share a last name"

With that he pushed her against the car harder to reclaim her lips. This time Bella did manage, regrettably, to move her head to the side so Damon's lips touched her cheek.

"You're being difficult"

"Get used to it"

She muttered and pushed against his shoulders again. Damon did put her to the ground this time.

"We don't share a last name by the way. I didn't take Phil's name. Bella Swan"

She extended a hand. Damon sighed and shook it.

"Damon Salvatore"

They shook hands. Bella licked her lips, Damon's eyes zeroed in and she put her tongue back in her mouth.

"So what's this problem you're having with. who was it? Oh, yeah. Charlie, Klaus, everyone at work, the reporters, and BooBoo. Why are you having trouble with reporters?"

Vampire memory. Some things don't change despite the fine printing of species.

"Charlie is my father. He's mad at me because of the stupid article and the jokes he has to endure at work. Same with Klaus, I'm angry on my friend's Caroline behalf. And the reporters. You know who BooBoo is."

He looked over her shoulder.

"He's the cat on your car."

The Booboo mention made her frown and look around. No sight of the brown thing he called a car

"Where is your car?"

"Garage. Keeps the dust and pollen and bird deposits off it."

"Your car is a wreck. Kinda too late to worry about all that"

He gave her a superior sneer

"I drive a Chevy Camaro Convertible"

"Can I see it?"

"Not until we finish our negotiations."

"Negotiations?"

"Yeah. About when we're going to finish what we just started."

Her mouth fell open.

"You mean you aren't going to let me see your car until I agree to have sex with you?"

"You got it."

"What is wrong with vampires and their brains? I've met about ten or so and you've all got some kind of brain deficiency."

He crossed his arms.

"Put up or shut up."

"Don't you mean `put out'?"

"If you insist"

He waggled his brows again

"I'll let you see Phi's car if you let me see yours"

She said slyly. He looked interested. Probably her expression told him that her Phil's car was out of the ordinary.

"What kind is it?"

She shrugged.

"I don't say the words out in public."

He leaned down and offered his ear to her.

"Whisper them."

She put her mouth against his ear and felt faint from the warm male scent that wafted to her nostrils again. She whispered two words.

He straightened so abruptly he bumped her nose.

"Ouch!"

She rubbed the aching tip.

"Let me see it"

He said hoarsely. She crossed her arms, mimicking his earlier position.

"Do we have a deal? You see Phil's car, and I see yours?"

"Hell, you can drive my car!"

He turned and looked at her garage as if it were the Holy Grail.

"It's in there?"

"Safe and secure."

"It's an original? Not a kit?"

"Original."

"Man,"

He breathed, already striding to the garage.

"I'll get the key."

She dashed inside for the key to the padlock, and returned to find him waiting impatiently.

"Be careful and open the door just enough to slide through. I don't want it seen from the street."

"Yeah, yeah."

He took the key from her and inserted it in the padlock. They entered the dark garage, and Bella fumbled for the light switch. The overheads came on, illuminating the low-slung, tarp-covered hump.

"How did he get it?"

Damon asked in a half whisper, as if he were in church. He reached for the edge of the tarp.

"His dad was on the development team."

He gave her a sharp look. Zach was in the development team of his favorite car? How had he missed it? Bella shrugged. She didn't know a lot about Phil's family. Damon lifted the tarp.

A low moan broke from his throat. The car wasn't particularly flashy. The automobile paints back then hadn't had the shine of today's paints. It was a kind of silvery gray, spare, without the luxuries so taken for granted by today's consumer. There wasn't a cup holder in sight.

"Man,"

He said again, bending to look at the instrumentation. He was careful not to touch the car. Most people, ninety-nine out of a hundred, couldn't have resisted. Some would have been brash enough to swing a leg over the low frame and slide into the driver's seat. Damon treated the car with reverence, and an odd sensation squeezed her heart. She felt a little light-headed, and everything in the garage began to fade out of focus except for his face. She concentrated on breathing, blinking fast, and in a moment the world clicked back into place.

Wow. What was that all about?

He re-covered the car as tenderly as a mother covers a sleeping infant. Wordlessly he fished his keys out of his jeans pocket and held them out to her.

She took them, and then looked down at her clothes.

"I'm wet."

"I know"

Her mouth fell open, and she quickly clamped her hands over the wet T-shirt.

"Why didn't you say something?"

She demanded hotly. He made a scoffing noise in the back of his throat.

"What, you think I'm crazy?"

"It would serve you right if I drove your car without changing clothes!"

He shrugged.

"After you let me see this, plus the wet t-shirt contest, I guess I owe you."

She started to argue that she hadn't let him see her "wet t-shirt contest", that he had looked without her permission; then she remembered that she had seen a lot more than his chest that morning and decided not to bring up the subject. Like he was going to give her the choice.

"Besides, you saw my cock. That has to be worth more points than nipples."

"Hah, Value is in the eye of the beholder. And I did tell you to cover up, if you'll remember."

"After you'd watched for how long?"

"Only long enough to call Mrs Flowers and get your number,"

She said self-righteously because it was the truth. So what if she'd had to chat with Daisy Flowers for a minute?

"And you didn't seem to think it was important enough to cover up. No, you waved it around like you were starting a race with it."

"I was enticing you."

"You were not! You didn't know I was looking."

He arched an eyebrow. She threw the keys back at him.

"I wouldn't drive your car now if you begged me! It probably has cooties in it or worse the previous girl you took out in it!"

He fielded the keys with one hand.

"Are you saying you weren't enticed?"

She started to tell him she hadn't felt even a twinge of enticement, but her tongue refused to utter what would have been the biggest lie of her life. He smirked.

"Thought so"

There was only one way to recover the upper hand. Bella put her hands on her hips, letting her nipples thrust against the thin T-shirt. Like a laser-guided missile, his gaze homed in on the front of her shirt. She saw him swallow.

"You don't play fair,"

He said thickly. She smirked in retaliation for his smirk.

"Remember that Mr. Vampire"

She said, and turned to leave the garage.

He slipped past her.

"I go first; I want to see you stepping into the sunlight."

Her hands clamped back in position over her breasts.

"Spoilsport"

He muttered, and slid sideways through the narrow opening. He stepped back inside so abruptly she collided with him.

"You have two problems"

He said.

"I do?"

"Yeah. First, you left the water on. You're going to have a hell of a water bill."

She sighed. The driveway must be awash by now. Damon had obviously driven her insane, or she would never have been so careless.

"What's the second problem?"

"Your yard is full of those reporters you mentioned."

"Oh, shit"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Damon handled the situation. He left the garage, locking the padlock behind him so no particularly nosy reporter could peek inside and see her. She listened at the door as he walked over to the Beetle and said,

"Excuse me, but I need to get to that faucet to turn off the water. Would you move, please?"

He was extraordinarily polite. Bella wondered why he was never that polite when he was talking to her. Of course, his tone was such that it was more of an order than a request, or that he was close to compelling but still.

"What can I do for you guys?"

"We want to interview Bella Swan about the List"

A strange voice said. It wounded dazed confirming Bella's suspicions.

"I don't know a Bella Swan" Damon lied.

"She lives here. According to public records, she bought this house a few weeks ago."

Public records? She was in so much trouble... Once again she was happy that Renee was out of the country and Charlie was already pissed off with her.

"Wrong. I bought this house a few weeks ago. Damn, there must have been an error when the deed was registered. I'll have to get this straightened out."

"Bella Swan doesn't live here?"

"I told you, I don't know a Bella Swan. Now, if you guys don't mind, I need to get back to washing my car."

"You drive a chick car?"

A man asked

"I'm secure in my masculinity"

Bella snorted and the sound was as loud as gunshots in her ears. She slapped both hands over her lips

"Maybe I should introduce myself,"

Damon said his tone suddenly soft. Bella could imagine the reporters listen as if they were the snakes and he was the charmer

"I'm Detective Damon Salvatore, and this is private property. You're trespassing. Do we need to continue this discussion?"

Evidently they didn't. Bella stood motionless as engines started and cars departed. It was a miracle the reporters hadn't heard her and Damon talking in the garage; they must have been talking among themselves, or they would have. Certainly she and Damon had been so engrossed in their own conversation they hadn't heard the reporters arrive.

She waited for Damon to come unlock the garage. He didn't. She heard water splashing and tuneless whistling.

The jerk was washing her car. She whispered a threat knowing he'd be able to hear her.

"You had better be doing it right. If you let the soap dry, I'll skin you alive or as alive as you are anyway."

Helplessly she waited, not daring to yell and bang on the door in case a reporter was still lurking. She wasn't wearing her wristwatch, but she estimated it was over an hour, closer to an hour and a half, before he unlocked the door. Twilight was deepening into night and her T-shirt was dry, that was how long she had stood impatiently waiting to be freed.

"You took your sweet time,"

She hissed as she stalked out of the garage.

"You're welcome. I finished washing your car, and then I waxed and buffed it."

She frowned at him

"Thank you. Why?"

"Want to tell me about the reporters?"

"No. I want to forget the whole thing."

"I don't think that's going to happen. They'll be back as soon as they check the records and find out I own the house next door, which will be first thing in the morning."

"I thought you compelled them"

"How did you..."

Bella battered her lashes and mimicked his charming monotone

"You're not the first undead person I've met"

"Hmm"

"In any event I'll be at work tomorrow"

"Bella"

He said, and this time he used his cop tone of voice.

"Damon"

She said in the same tone. After a few moments of staring at each other, Damon leaned closer, his pupils dilating

"Tell me"

He commanded in his charming tone. Bella locked her eyes on his, leaned in, breathed a little

"No"

At his stunned expression she made a bee line for her front door. She had barely stepped on the first one when a hand clamped on hers and she was pushed to sit on the porch steps. She sighed because she really should have seen it coming and made herself comfortable

"It's that stupid list."

He settled beside her and stretched out his long legs.

"What stupid list?"

"About the perfect man."

He came to attention.

"That list? The one that was in the paper?"

She nodded blushing.

"You wrote it?"

"Not exactly. I'm one of the four friends who came up with the list. All this hoopla about it is an accident. No one was ever supposed to see the thing, but it got into the newsletter at work and it's even on the Internet, and everything has snowballed from there."

She folded her arms on top of her drawn-up knees and rested her head on them.

"It's a mess. There must be no other news at all for the list to be getting this land of attention. I've been praying for a stock market crash or one of your kind to go into a feeding frenzy."

"I don't get it. What's so interesting about the list? `Faithful, nice, employed.' Big deal."

"There's more than what was in the newspaper,"

"More? What kind of more?"

"You know. More."

He thought about it, then said cautiously,

"Physical more?"

Looking everywhere but his crotch she nodded. Damon paused

"How much more?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I'll just look it up on the Web."

"Fine. You do that. I don't want to talk about it."

His big hand settled on the nape of her neck and squeezed.

"It can't be that bad."

"Yes, it can. Caroline might end up dead-er because of this. Charlie is mad at me because I'm making him look bad."

"Tell him to chill"

He shrugged. Bella sighed and threw him a look that said she had already done that.

"He sounds like a pain in the ass to me."

It was Bella's turn to shrug

"Are you going to invite me in, maybe cook dinner for me?"

She snorted.

"Get real."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Okay, then, do you want to go grab a bite to eat?"

She thought about it. There were definite pros and cons to accepting. The obvious benefit was not having to eat alone, if she had felt like going to the trouble of preparing something, which she didn't. The biggest con was spending more time with him. Spending time with Damon could be dangerous.

The only thing that had saved her earlier was that they hadn't been in a private place. If he got her alone in his car, there's no telling what would happen. On the other hand, they kind of had to talk about the boarding house.

"I'm not asking you to solve the meaning of life. Do you want to grab a burger or not?"

He said irritably

"If I go, you can't touch me,"

She warned. He held up both hands.

"I'll be good. I'll even let you choose where we eat"

"I believe only half of that"


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Ten minutes later they met in front of his garage door. He pressed the button on the control in his hand, and it slid up like oiled silk. In the light that came on automatically when the door opened, she saw the gleaming black car.

"I always thought death rides the pale horse"

She commented, trying not to compare Damon's black classic car, to Edward's silver modern one.

"Leather seats"

He said, and lifted a wicked eyebrow at her.

"If you're really good, I'll let you seduce me in the car"

She managed not to react visibly.

"Nothing to say?"

He asked. She shook her head.

"Oh, damn, now I'm worried."

He said as he opened the door for her. Bella's eyebrows shot up at the gesture but slipped in and managed not to wince as her knees slid under the console.

Rebekah's plan hadn't worked. Caroline faced the inevitable after the third reporter called. God, why didn't this thing just go away? What was so fascinating about a funny list? Not that Klaus would think it was at all funny, she thought, depressed. He didn't seem to think anything was funny anymore, unless it was something that happened in New Orleans.

He had been so much fun when they first met, full of laughter and jokes despite his past. Where had that cheerful man gone? How much could a person change in one short year?

They didn't even see each other much anymore. She had taken her mother's advice and gotten a summer job since she wasn't certain if she wanted to go to college right away. She was still seventeen. She would always be seventeen. She could go to college later or pull a, whatstheirname, vampires Bella knew and do the whole school thing again at one point.

Klaus spent most of his time in New Orleans and only came back in weekends, if then. When he did, she would be tired, and wanted to stay in. He would want to go out. If she was wired and wanted a fun night out, he'd want to stay in.

The most telling thing, she thought, was that he made a fuss about coming back in the weekends. She had offered to visit him but he had roared a negative reply.

If his intention had been to get away from her as much as possible, she thought glumly, he had accomplished his aim.

Maybe their relationship was already over and she simply hadn't faced the fact. Maybe Tyler was right. Klaus had been interested in "stealing her" and now that he had her, he was no longer interested.

The thought made her chest hurt, deep inside. She loved him. Rather, she loved the person she knew he was, inside the surly exterior that was all her friends had seen when they first met him. Who he was still acting like sometimes.

If she were sleepy or something else and he popped into mind, the face she saw was the grinning, awkward, fool who took her by the hand to show her his paintings. The man that laughed when she asked him if the guard at the Luvre weren't taking vervain.

She loved the man who had brought her a single red rose on their anniversary because he knew the gesture mattered to her more than the entire florist.

She didn't love the man who hadn't said "I love you" in so long she couldn't remember the last time despite her perfect memory.

Caroline felt so helpless, compared to her friends. If anyone tried to give Rebekah guff, she blew him off and looked for someone to fill his shoes - or rather, her bed. Bonnie was upset over Matt, but she didn't sit at home waiting for him; she carried on with her life. And as for Bella - Bella was complete in a way Caroline knew she herself wasn't. Whatever life handed her, Bella faced it. Who else moved across the country because she was pissed off with her father? Even Elena who did that did it with Stefan, hanging on him instead of standing tall herself.

Not one of the three would take the grief from Klaus that she had been silently enduring. She hated her own weakness. What would happen if they? He'd sell his house probably. She would have to go back to living with her mother or ask one of the girls if they wanted a roommate, but, so what?

She could live in an apartment, right? Caroline could live alone, though she never had. She would learn to handle everything herself. And she would date again. What would it be like to spend time with a man who didn't insult her every time he opened his mouth?

When the phone rang, she knew it was Klaus. Her hand was steady when she lifted the receiver.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Were his first words. He was breathing heavily, telling her he had worked himself into a rage.

"No, I don't believe so"

She said calmly.

"You've made me a laughingstock"

"If anyone is laughing, it's because you let him. You've killed people for looking at you the wrong way Klaus. I'm not going to talk to you about it on the phone. If you want to talk to me in a civil tone, come home. If you intend to rant and rave, I have better things to do than listen to you."

He hung up on her. Her hand was shaking a little now as she replaced the receiver. Tears blurred her eyes. If he thought she would beg him for forgiveness, he was sadly mistaken.

She missed who she was when she was human. She had been vapid and self obsessed and in a constant popularity war with Elena but she wasn't afraid to stand her ground. She hadn't chosen to turn into a vampire, but the newfound strength was stronger than her newfound weaknesses. She wanted to go back to that.

Maybe it was time she did. It was up to her, wasn't it? If she lost Klaus, at least she could hold on to her self-respect. If he left her, at least she would make him regret it.

The phone rang again half an hour later.

Caroline frowned as she went to answer it. She didn't think Klaus was likely to call back, but maybe he'd thought about what she said and realized she wasn't going to roll over and play dead this time when he raised his voice.

"Hello,"

She said.

"Which one are you?"

She frowned at the ghostly whisper.

"What? Who is this?"

"Are you Ms. A? B? Which one are you?"

"Get a life,"

Snapped the new Caroline and she slammed down the phone.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Bella jumped out of bed early the next morning feeling well rested. As she showered her thoughts raced back to the previous evening. She had a good time surprisingly. Unlike her previous dinners with vampires, the Mystic Falls kind actually eat so as they pigged on small Chinese doughnuts and chicken Sichuan they spoke about things.

_Flashback_

He admitted he was one of the two vampires of the family tree and that both he and his brother resurfaced every few generations. Bella agreed that she was related to one of them.

"So you're Zach's grandkid?"

"Step-grandkid"

Bella had grinned around her fortune cookie.

"And Phil has given me month to month access so don't bother getting me to invite you inside the boarding house or the company"

"I always thought it was a little too easy to kill Zach"

Damon had sighed before he grinned and stole the last egg roll. Bella shrugged one shoulder and let him question her about why she was there. In return he admitted he didn't want people to know he was back and that, per Liz Forbes' instructions, he had agreed to use his military training and lead a taskforce consisted of supernatural beings.

"Why do you live next to me? The town isn't too big but I'm pretty sure you could be living in a better house"

She propped her chin on her hand and took a swing of her root beer

"I tried to get into my house when I moved back but couldn't. The old witch refused to let me in and instead told me there were houses on the market on her street. Just happened to be next door to you"

His eyes flashed black and veiny before emptying his scotch in one drink.

_End flashback_

Bella shivered at the memory and turned the water on hotter. She wanted to be out of the house before him or he'd remember to ask about the list.

She was on her way out the door at the ungodly time of seven A.M. when she saw that her answering machine was full of messages again. She started to hit the delete button, but hesitated. With Renee and Phil traveling, anything could happen: one of them could become ill, or there might be some other sort of emergency. Bella's luck of finding all possible dangers hadn't been passed down from Charlie…

She hit the play button.

There were messages from three reporters, one print and two television, requesting interviews. Two hang-ups, back-to-back. The sixth call was from Janice Gray, who introduced herself as Amanda Gray's sister. Her voice had the mellow, modulated tones of a television announcer as she informed Bella she would love to book her on the show to talk about the List, which was absolutely sweeping the country. The seventh message was from a magazine, requesting the same.

Bella fought down rising hysteria as she listened to three more hang-ups. Whoever it was waited for a long time, silently, before hanging up. Idiot.

She deleted the calls; she had no intention of returning any of them. This whole situation had moved beyond silly into downright ridiculous.

She made it out of the driveway without sight of Damon, which meant her morning was off to an even-tempered start. She felt so good that she tuned the radio up and sang along, replaying the previous evening in her mind and realizing that as far as dates go, it was pretty good.

"Why am I always falling pretty fast for an undead guy?"

She wondered out loud and decided to not fall for him all the way. She had spent a few months hating him, that shouldn't turn to love just because he wasn't exactly dead or because he was a good kisser

Right?

He was cocky - in more ways than one - irritating, macho, smart, and sexy as hell. And he had the proper reverence for Phil's car, plus he had done a pretty good job washing and waxing the Bug.

Shit, she was somewhat falling.

There were more reporters at the SPC Inc gates. Someone must have tipped this bunch off about what she drove, because flashbulbs began exploding as she slowed for the guard to lift the barrier arm. He grinned down at her.

"Wanna take me for a test drive and see if I meet the requirements?"

He asked.

"Let me get back to you, I'm already booked for the next two and a half years."

She smirked

"Figures,"

He winked.

She was so early that the puke-green hallway was empty. It was eerie. She was in the office before she realized the reporters and guard hadn't upset her. They weren't important. Reminiscing about the date was. Amanda Gray came into work early, too.

"Oh, good,"

She said, her eyes lighting when she saw Bella at her desk.

"I need to talk to you, and I hoped you would be in early so we wouldn't have an audience."

Bella gave an internal groan. She could see what was coming from a mile away.

"Jan called me last night. You know, my sister. Anyway, she's been trying to get in touch with you, and guess what? She wants to book you on the show! Isn't that exciting? Well, all four of you, of course, but I told her you were probably the spokesperson."

"Ah. I don't think we have a spokesperson"

Bella said, a little nonplused by the assumption.

"Oh. Well, if you did, you would be it. The spokesperson."

Amanda seemed so proud that Bella cast about for a diplomatic way of saying, 'No way'

"I didn't know your sister was a program booker."

"Oh, she isn't, but she spoke to the booker and she's very interested, too. This would be a feather in Jan's cap. The word is out the other networks will probably contact you today, so Jan wanted to get the jump on them. This could really help her career."

Meaning that if she, Bella, didn't cooperate, any setbacks in Amanda's sister's career would be laid directly on her doorstep.

"There might be a problem"

Bella said, looking as contrite as possible.

"Caroline's family, you know the sheriff, isn't happy with all this publicity -"

Amanda shrugged.

"So only three of you go on the show. Actually, it would probably be just fine if you were the only one -"

"Bonnie's much prettier -"

"But you're not local. She also doesn't have your authority."

Great. Now Bella had "authority". She tried to use some of that authority and infuse her tone with firmness.

"I don't like all this publicity, either. I'd rather the whole thing just faded away."

Amanda looked at her in horror.

"You can't mean that! Don't you want to be rich and famous?"

"Rich, I wouldn't mind. Famous, no. And I don't see how going on a morning talk show would make me rich."

"You could get a book deal out of this! One of those multimillion-dollar advances, you know, like those women who wrote the book about rules."

"Amanda!"

Bella half-shouted.

"Reality check here! How could the List be a book, unless the preferred size of a man's penis is discussed for three hundred pages?"

"Three hundred? I think a hundred and fifty would be plenty."

Amanda looked dubious. Bella looked around for something against which to bang her head.

"Please, please say you'll say yes"

Amanda pleaded, folding her hands together in the classic supplicant pose. She looked so much like Alice that Bella's clear 'no' died on her lips. In a flash of inspiration, Bella said,

"I'll have to talk to the other three. It'll be a group deal or nothing at all."

"But you said Car -"

"I'll talk to the other three,"

She repeated. Amanda looked unhappy, but evidently recognized some of that mysterious authority she thought Bella possessed.

"I thought you'd be thrilled,"

She mumbled.

"I'm not. I like my privacy."

"Then why did you put the List in the newsletter?"

"I didn't! Rebekah got drunk and let it slip to Anna what's-her-name."

"Oh."

Amanda looked even unhappier, as if she realized Bella was even less thrilled about the whole situation than she had previously thought.

"My own father is mad at me about this"

Bella grumbled. Despite her disappointment, Amanda was a nice woman. She sat down on the edge of the desk, her expression changing to one of sympathy.

"Why? What does it have to do with him?"

"My opinion exactly. He says I've embarrassed him in front of the guys at work"

"I don't see how, unless they've been comparing themselves in the rest room and he came up short"

Amanda commented, then giggled and then shut up realizing she was talking about someone's father.

"I don't want to think about that"

Then she began giggling, too. She and Amanda looked at each other and burst into gales of laughter, laughing until tears welled and ruined their mascaras. Sniffing, they giggled their way to the ladies' room to repair the damage.


End file.
